The Edge of the World
by Em Dixon
Summary: To take Ozai's bending away, Aang had to best him in a battle of wills. What if Aang's beliefs weren't enough to overcome the convictions of a madman? The war was supposed to end when the Avatar defeated the Fire Lord during Sozin's Comet, but war rages on. Written for Zutara Month, prompt "the end of the world."
1. The End of the World

Zuko couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so soundly. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so relaxed and untroubled. Which was exactly why he was doing his best to ignore the insistent tugging at the corner of his consciousness. He wasn't quite ready to move away from the calm of half sleep and return to the reality of the world around him.

"Zuko, please, we don't have much time."

The urgency in Katara's voice made him open his eyes. He groaned, struggling to sit up, the torn muscles in his stomach making it known that he was far from healed after his comet-fueled duel with Azula. Katara crawled onto the bed to help him, tugging him and coaxing him to stand. She sniffled, and Zuko rubbed his eyes, blinking a few times before looking at her, finally and fully realizing that something wasn't quite right. The unshed tears in her eyes put him on full alert. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. The tips of his fingers tingled. Zuko forced himself to stand, quickly surveying the room. His room, the room he'd slept in as a child in the Fire Nation palace. There weren't any signs of battle, no bodies lying around, which was a good thing. Two hooded figures waited in the doorway to his bedroom, one of them holding a cloak, the other looking back into the sitting room. Katara was wearing a cloak. Zuko took a shaky breath, hoping to fully push sleep away and calm his racing heart. It was pitch black outside, and with a pang in his heart, Zuko knew they would be leaving the palace. Escaping the palace.

Something had gone _terribly_ wrong.

Katara was whispering something to him as she helped him dress, her eyes wide and her hair wild the way it always was when she tugged at it. Absently, Zuko smoothed it down and Katara jumped, the near constant flow of words stopping. She blinked at him and a few tears spilled over, but she didn't wipe them away, just grabbed his hand and led him to the door. Zuko looked over his shoulder as they moved further away from the bed, and he waited. He looked back at his bed, the bed he'd longed to sleep in for so many years, and waited. He waited to feel…what? Pain? Fear? Maybe the numbing tea Katara had made for him the night before hadn't quite worn off yet, but Zuko knew he would be grateful for it when they finally had to talk about what happened. Or didn't happen. He stopped, standing in the middle of his bedroom, trying to breathe.

"Your majesty, Master Katara is right, we must hurry."

Zuko looked at the hooded people in the doorway. They'd thrown their hoods back, and Zuko had a sick feeling that he knew exactly what happened. His head spun, and he was starting to feel woozy at hearing Hau's voice. And if Hau was there, the other person was Yina. Two people who held prominent places among the palace staff, Yina managing all of the servants, overseeing their hiring, training and firing, Hau being a Chief Secretary, in charge of managing official schedules, setting up appointments and organizing the princes' days, though before they'd left, he'd reported more to Iroh than Ozai. When people finally started to emerge after the fight with Azula, it didn't surprise Zuko at all that Hau and Yina were right at the front, demanding that people bow and acknowledge their Fire Lord. They'd led the injured and exhausted teens back to the palace and made sure they were patched up and fed, and gave them rooms to sleep in. They'd arranged for guards to stand watch over them, and through the whole night, no harm had come to them.

Zuko nodded, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat, the dread firmly planted in the pit of his stomach. It seemed their good luck was finally at an end. He spared himself a small smile, remembering when Yina was first hired. He'd hated her until she made him a peace offering—a dessert custard with a crunchy sugar coating on top. Once, he'd told Aang about how great they were, how you could mix in your favorite fruit, and Aang had been so excited. He'd made Zuko promise that, after they won the war, they could all have some of this delicious sounding custard. He felt like he would throw up.

"Zuko…"

Katara's voice was weak. He'd never heard her sound that way. Even when she was exhausted, or when she was near tears after they'd seen that stupid play at Ember Island, her voice always had a steel behind it. She'd always been strong. Now, she just sounded…broken.

Stiffly, Zuko walked back to the bed and opened a drawer in the nightstand, feeling around for the secret compartment. He pulled out the pouch of money and valuables that he'd stashed there, then hobbled back over to Katara, his body aching already. He'd need it to hold out quite a bit longer. Katara came forward to meet him, helping him into his cloak with shaking hands, and he stuffed the pouch into an inside pocket.

"We won't be coming back for a long time, will we, Secretary Hau?" Zuko asked, trying desperately not to sound like a scared child.

"I do not think so," the older man replied quietly, a slight tremor in his voice.

Zuko nodded and the group left, Katara throwing his arm over her shoulders to help him walk. She leaned against him almost as much as he was leaning against her. That was fine. They would support each other. They would have to support each other. At least they _had_ each other. What about Toph? Or Sokka and Suki? His heart beat even quicker, his legs going weak. They had to be alright. It couldn't be possible that one of them… They were with Aang…

"This was supposed to be it," Katara whispered, trying to bear more of Zuko's weight. "We were supposed to win."

Katara took another shaky breath and Zuko stopped in the hallway to hug her. She clung to him tightly, a few sobs escaping, even though he could tell she was trying to hold it back. He tried to talk to her, to tell her that they would find a way, that at least they had each other, but every time he tried to say something, his own voice cracked. Sighing, he gave her a final squeeze, then held her hand as they slowly went down the hallway. Hau, Yina, and the guards who'd been watching over them kept a respectful distance, perhaps realizing just how hard this was going to be.

"Quickly," Yina said, opening a secret passage in the hallway. "The others are waiting for us outside. We'll fly as far as we can tonight before resting again. We need to be far from the capitol when…"

Yina busied herself with a flint and spark, lighting a torch just inside the passageway. She stepped back so a few of the soldiers could go in front. The rest would follow behind them. Yina's nickname among the servants was the Iron Maiden because she was always so strict with them, demanding nothing less than perfection. She rarely showed emotion, and Zuko could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen her openly smile, but when she turned toward them to make sure they were following, there was terror in her eyes. Behind them, Hau cleared his throat.

"We need to be as far away from the capitol as we can by the time…Ozai returns," Hau said.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and when they finally emerged into the night, the dim light of the moon almost seemed too bright. Zuko shielded his eyes as he waited for them to adjust. When they finally did, he was completely unprepared for what he saw. The tunnel opened up close to the ocean in an area shielded from sight by high cliffs. From here, several boats could be launched without much fanfare or notice, and several boats were on the shore. Scores of people moved around, loading the ships with supplies. When they noticed the newcomers, they all stopped to bow, their mouths moving as they whispered something to him, but Zuko's mind was drawn away by something else, his ears filled with a rhythmic thumping and a low wail.

Appa.

Further down the beach, the sky bison raised his massive head toward the moon and let out a low, keening sound that shook Zuko to his very core, made him hurt in a way that no amount of medicine could cure. The people stood and resumed their tasks as Appa slapped his tail against the sand then wailed again. No one needed to tell him what happened. If there was some lie that Zuko was able to fabricate, some way to shield himself from the truth, there was no longer any way he could deny the outcome of Aang's fight with Ozai. Appa's song of mourning made it clear to anyone within hearing distance that the world had changed again. None of this stopped Zuko's mind from fighting against the truth, and he felt the pain is his abdomen as sharply as he had when Azula's lighting first ripped its way through him. His legs gave out, and he didn't try to support himself, didn't try to stand and put on a brave face. He couldn't. He just couldn't. His heart twisted, and the tears finally started, and he didn't even try to stop them, because Katara was right. _It wasn't supposed to end this way_. Aang's heart was soft, and he was compassionate, but he'd always used that in his favor. He'd always been able to find a way around the hard things, and no matter how much it frustrated Zuko, no matter how jealous he was that Aang always managed to come out unscathed, he'd come to depend on that. Aang had always just _managed_. They'd all trusted that he would manage this time, too.

How could Ozai, _Ozai_ of all people, be stronger than the _Avatar_? How could this happen? It wasn't right, it wasn't _fair_. They'd all worked so hard, had fought and won in ways that people thought impossible. Aang had worked so hard. Soft arms were around him, and he reached for Katara, and they clung to each other, shaking and terrified, knowing that the longer they mourned here, the closer Ozai was getting, and they could not be there when he landed. There was no way to know what he would do to them before he killed them. There was no doubt in Zuko's mind that Ozai would kill them.

"I'm so sorry," Hau said. "I know this is hard for you both, but we must leave. We must protect you, all of you. You are all this world has left."

When the soldiers tried to lift them, Katara fought like a wildcat, scratching and kicking, not even using her bending, just flailing about, and finally they let her go. Zuko lay in the sand, his body feeling too heavy to move. He watched Katara stumble toward Appa and collapse against his side. Appa nuzzled her, stopping his song. The silence pressed against Zuko as he rolled onto his back and stared at the stars above them. The comet was long gone, and with it, their chance at saving the world. Their hope was gone. Everything they fought for, every inch they'd gained… Gone.

"Your majesty, we must get you and Master Katara to Ba Sing Se. The Order of the White Lotus is there, and they will be able to protect you far better than we can."

A young Fire Sage was talking to him, and Zuko recognized the words, but they didn't have any meaning to him. People were lifting him out of the sand, trying to be gentle, but he didn't have the strength to help them. There was no help for them. For any of them.

"Why bother?"

The voice didn't sound like his own, it sounded too dead, too flat, and he could feel his face crumbling again, the tears stinging at his eyes as Appa started his mourning song again. Then shame at crying in front of people who were addressing him as "your majesty." He was weak. He was weak and he was a weak teacher, and he'd probably made Aang weak. If he'd been better, if he'd been stronger, then maybe…

"Leave them be," Yina said, shooing away the Fire Sage. "There will be time for talk of plans later. Let them have their grief."

She was the Iron Maiden again, and she and Hau organized the last of the things, instructing the guards to take Zuko to Appa and help him in the saddle. Katara was already there, curled into a ball, clutching something yellow, and Zuko crawled over to her. They just lay there, holding each other as tightly as they could, the scrap of yellow fabric between them.

"I watched him grow," Katara said between sniffles.

They barely took notice as the ships began to launch, as Hau asked Appa for one final favor before climbing into the saddle with Yina, the Fire Sage and a few others. He could barely feel the blanket that Yina carefully draped over them or the cold air as Appa soared into the sky. Appa gave one last mournful cry as the islands of the Fire Nation became little more than specks on the horizon. They slept. They woke. They cried. Neither Zuko nor Katara uttered a word. No words could express their pain. None, except three, whispered quietly between them like the only prayer they would ever say:

He will pay.


	2. Resistance

Katara took a deep breath as she looked across the table at the Council of Five. She tried not to tug her hair while they talked amongst themselves, leaning over the empty chair at the head of the table where Kuei should have been sitting. During the two hour meeting, it had been like a gaping hole, staring at them the entire time, reminding them of one more loss they'd suffered during the war. But Kuei could be recovered. As far as they knew, he was out there, somewhere. The other loss, however… Katara took a deep breath, and Sokka put his hand on her shoulder, trying to give her an encouraging smile, but it did little soothe the pain. Her palms were sweating again, and she tried to find the strength she'd had during the war. During the first part of the war. They were still at war.

"This is ridiculous," Toph grumbled. "Why are they fighting us? Why can't they just say ok?"

"These things take time," Hakoda said gently. "We're asking a lot of them."

She didn't think it really was asking a lot, though her father, Iroh, Secretary Hau, and everyone else with them kept assuring them that it was. Toph started grumbling something, and Zuko put his hand on her head. She quieted, but kept casting wary looks at the Council the longer they talked. It was hard not to share Toph's frustration; nearly a year after Sozin's Comet, it seemed like nothing had been done to continue the fight. The fear was palpable everywhere. After escaping the palace, Appa took them to the Earth Kingdom, but didn't have the heart to get them closer to Ba Sing Se. He left them in safety, then went off. They'd watched as he got smaller and smaller, disappearing into the sky, becoming one with the clouds. So, they'd travelled by foot, and each step a painful reminder of the loss, of the hole that was growing within them. Iroh did his best to coach them through their grief, led them through what he knew of Air Nomad funerals, and it had given them some small measure of peace. Still, there were days when it wasn't enough.

"I think the world was greatly unprepared for what happened," General Winn said, as the generals finished their private conversation.

His voice was heavy and tired, the lines on his face deeper than they were the last time they'd seen him. The teens had seen the terrified people pouring into Ba Sing Se, the city practically overflowing, as Ozai renewed his assault on the Earth Kingdom. No one knew when Ozai was coming, but everyone felt certain that he was, and with no king on the throne, and the army in disarray, no one truly felt safe from Ozai's wrath. Which was exactly why they had to do something. Ozai was feeling his strongest, boasting that he had defeated the Avatar, that it proved his strength, that he would punish those that stood against him… Katara closed her eyes and tried to focus her mind, pushing out the fragments of horrible dreams that were threatening to invade her waking mind.

"We were horribly unprepared," General How agreed. "But…you are right. He _will_ come for us. I'd like to think that we are a little stronger, a little wiser than Avatar Aang is… _was_ …but we must remember that we were fooled by Princess Azula."

Here, General How gave Zuko a pointed look, and Katara wanted to immediately rise to his defense, especially as Zuko started to sink into his chair. Katara clenched her fists in her lap. She needed calm because this needed to work. Iroh and her father agreed that they would have to take a different approach; this time, they would have to be more than soldiers. They would have to be diplomats, and so began countless hours of studying and drilling, of Mistress Yina correcting their posture, of Secretary Hau giving them difficult scenarios and asking them to make decisions. They trained and they learned because they had to. This had to work. They needed Ba Sing Se on their side if they were ever going to take down Ozai. They _had_ to have Ba Sing Se.

"Please," she said instead. "Please, we can't do this on our own. Gaoling and Omashu have already agreed to work with us, and if we have a more unified Earth Kingdom, we'll be able to present the North with a stronger argument. This has to work. Ozai _cannot_ be allowed to… Aang…"

Words failed her as her heart twisted again, and Katara cursed herself for not keeping it together. Frustrated, she pushed away from the table, determined to get out of the room before she broke down and started crying again, feeling horrendously exhausted and just so _done_ with all of this. A strong hand reached out for her, and she turned slightly. Zuko squeezed her hand and gave her a half hearted smile. He looked tired, sad. A little broken. And she turned to look at her family, one by one, and they all had that same look. Stubbornly wiping away her tears, Katara turned toward the council again.

"Gaoling and Omashu have joined us," she said, going over their talking points. "After we leave here, we intend to go to Chief Arnook in the North and ask him to join this alliance. We didn't win the first time because it was just _us_. Even so, look what we did!" She threw her arms wide, looking directly at General How and hoping that he would hear her words. "Imagine what we could do if all of us worked together. He is just _one man_."

"Yes, one man who managed to _kill_ the Avatar," General Soo said.

"And perhaps," Iroh chimed in, "had they not been brushed off the first time, had Ba Sing Se not been filled with corruption, the world would be different."

How bristled at this, and teens tensed. Iroh held How's gaze until the younger man turned away, and this seemed to be all the agreement they needed. The tension in the room shifted, perhaps bleeding out a little. Breaths were released, and How dropped his head into his hands.

"We should start again," General Winn said quietly. "All of this. _All_ of this."

Katara felt the relief wash over her as the tears burned the corner of her eyes. They'd fought and bled, they'd begged every city they stopped in for help, and had been turned away at every step. So few had wanted to take up the fight for their own freedom, it seemed, and so they'd done what others refused to do. They had _sacrificed_. And now…now it felt like the end was in sight.

"We did not grasp the chance as firmly as we should have," Hakoda said, his voice loud and firm, almost a general speaking to his troops. "We waited and we hid, perhaps because we'd all lost hope. General Winn is right. We _can_ start again."

Katara reached out on either side of her, grabbing both Sokka and Zuko, and they reached out, grabbing Suki and Toph. _This was it_.

"You have our support," General How said. "Ba Sing Se will stand by you."

They would have their revolution.

* * *

Zuko sat on a bench in the garden, looking down at the bundle in his hands. Guilt gnawed at him. Maybe he'd been young and foolish in thinking that it wasn't his destiny to defeat his father. During the Invasion, after the eclipse was over and Ozai had shot lightning at him, it wouldn't have been hard to aim a few inches lower. He could have ended everything then. But if he had, he wouldn't have gotten to know his friends. He wouldn't be as happy…

"Don't be selfish," he mumbled to himself, opening the bundle for the tenth time.

"What's that?"

He started, nearly falling off the bench, his face red and his eyes redder. Zuko tried to hide from Katara, but in the dim light from the palace, he could see that she'd been crying too. Hell, this wouldn't be the first time she'd seen him cry, and she'd never made fun of him for it. She'd always been comforting and supportive. He trusted her. Zuko cleared his throat and gestured to the spot next to him, slowly pulling the crown out of the cloth. He held it in his hand for her to see. She gently touched it, running her finger along the molten gold detailing a simple flame, following the sharp edges.

"It's what the Crowned Prince wears. Sozin gave it to Roku, and I guess it's stayed with my mother's side of the family. Until now."

Katara didn't say anything, just staring at the relic, and Zuko supposed that was ok. Sometimes he was still uneasy with the silences between them, but he always appreciated that she never pushed him to talk.

"My uncle wants me to wear it."

"Oh?"

"He…he has a plan, and I don't know if I can go through with it."

Zuko took a deep breath and looked up at the stars in the sky. Of course, Iroh had said, the choice would be his, and if he looked within himself and felt that he truly couldn't do what needed to be done, then nothing would become of this plan. Iroh hadn't even mentioned it to anyone else, saying that Zuko must absolutely, fully agree to this before he even speaks of it to the others. It would be no small burden, but in the end, if they could pull it off, the world would be stronger for it. But, if Zuko felt that it was asking too much, he would understand. They would find other avenues, and they would still succeed. No road that lay before them would be easy, and they would all have to sacrifice, but there would be peace, no matter what.

"He wants me to wear the crown," Zuko whispered, holding it up to inspect it.

"That doesn't sound too bad."

Zuko shook his head. "Everything that this would mean… He's still trying to prepare me to be Fire Lord, and he wants to start now. To make the world see my…Ozai…as the usurper. He wants me to wear the crown as a challenge to Ozai's right to rule."

Katara was silent, probably weighing her words. He didn't do a good job of explaining the weight to her. Of stepping out every day with the crown on, with this burden placed on him. People would see him as a symbol for the rebellion, much like they saw Aang as the one who'd save them. Would they stop fighting as hard if he wore that crown? Would they expect him to magically solve all of their problems like they'd expected a 12 year old to do away with a century of war? What if he wasn't strong enough? He'd never been good with making choices, and as much as Hau assured him that he was doing well in his studies, Zuko had his doubts. Whoever led the Fire Nation couldn't be filled with doubts.

"I'm not strong enough—"

"I believe in you—"

Her smile was slight, but hopeful, and Zuko almost turned away from it. He didn't want her to believe in him. If she didn't believe, she couldn't be disappointed when he failed.

"I'm not ready," he whispered.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be now," she said, just as quietly. She was looking down at her feet, drawing abstract patterns in the grass. "I heard them talking, and they say that if they're going to do this right, this rebellion will last far longer than a year. General Soo is already talking about finding a new Grand Secretariat before we do anything else. And finding Kuei."

Zuko snorted. "They'll expect _us_ to find Kuei."

Katara snorted. "Probably."

They sat in silence as the night went on. When they did talk, they made an effort to talk only about simple, silly things. Things that had no weight. They stayed up well into the night, and when they finally went to bed, Zuko had his first night of untroubled sleep in nearly a year.

* * *

A/N: So, this is going to be an interesting story. I'm trying something a little different that what I've done in the past since I've got to cover a _huge_ amount of time. Hopefully things won't feel too fragmented. Also because my brain decided we should do a major rewrite right after I posted the first chapter. Happy reading.


	3. Life

Katara opened the door as quietly as she could, the weak rays of sunlight streaming into the hallway behind her. She set the two custards on the ledge and slowly peeked out. Zuko was in profile, his scarred side to her, sitting cross legged in the grass of the garden. His back was straight, hands resting on his knees, his eyes closed, the prince's crown catching the first rays of the day's sun as it crested the tops of the buildings in Ba Sing Se's upper ring.

He breathed long tendrils of smoke, and the slight, fragrant wind of Ba Sing Se in spring took them away. Three candles were lit in front of him, and he took the flames from the two on the ends, transferring the fire from one to the other, funneling the power through his fire chakra. Katara smiled. He'd explained his sun meditations to her, how they'd always calmed him and made him feel centered. He'd even taught them to her, worked with her to adapt them to waterbending. His face was peaceful, untroubled, and more than once, they'd shared that calm, untroubled peace when they'd meditated together. After those sessions, she always felt more invigorated than she had going in. She'd felt strong and renewed, ready to take on the world.

Katara smiled. This was a day of celebration, not just for them, but for the world, to be grateful that they were alive, to acknowledge that the alliance was growing stronger and more firm every year. The Earth Kingdom was united in a way that it hadn't been in ages. Arnook had accepted their offer, and was working with the Earth Kingdom and the South to expand the navy, and both had sent benders and engineers to the South to help rebuild. Progress meant the friends were often pulled in different directions, and it had been hard to learn that they didn't always have to fight together, that sometimes it was better to divide their forces. Toph often spent time in the Earth Kingom teaching metalbending, Sokka and Suki would split time between the Earth Kingdom and the South, helping the navy and working with engineers on Sokka's inventions. She and Zuko were able to spend a lot of time on the front lines, but even then, Zuko spent a lot of time at the Palace, learning everything he could. She missed everyone greatly when they were apart, but it was _working_. People had been bonded by shared grief and fear; there were places in the Earth Kingdom that would never recover, and those stood as a testament to what a madman was willing to do to them all. They had no Avatar to dump their hopes on, and so they fought. _Finally_.

"Thank you for waiting."

Slowly, Zuko turned toward her, his smile brilliant, his face outlined by the rising sun, his eyes as golden as the sky. Her smile widened as she watched him, her heart doing too many things at once. She hesitantly took a few steps forward, not really wanting to disturb him.

"Happy birthday," Katara said as cheerily as she could.

She ducked back inside to grab the custards. Things had been so peaceful over the last few months that it was easy to become complacent, to think that this could be their lives forever. They'd been helping rebuild Ba Sing Se, fortifying the city again, and it had become a great stronghold for the resistance. For four years, they were a true rebellion, able to push back against Ozai's attempts at conquest and actually _win_ , even if they suffered huge losses from time to time.

But in these lulls between battles, when she didn't need to be on the front lines, Katara tended to forget that they weren't still fighting a war. When she did forget, the guilt was never far behind; it felt wrong to go on living, to let the pain of losing someone so important to her fade away. She didn't want to feel happy. She absolutely did not. Moments of happiness were fine, but she refused to feel content with this life that they had. There was an end game, a final goal, and being a leader of the rebellion was not it. Moments like this were only a dream. They were fleeting. Reality was always at the edge of her mind.

"Katara?"

With a deep breath, Katara grabbed the desserts and poked her head back outside.

"Gifts!"

She forced a smile, even though she knew Zuko would see right through it, and the way he was frowning at her said he already had his suspicions. He took the desserts from her as she sat next to him on the grass. Their knees touched. From the corner of her eye, Katara watched Zuko inspecting the dessert, laughing quietly as he realized what it was.

"Compliments of Yina," she said, nudging his shoulder with hers.

"Does my uncle know I'm having dessert before breakfast?"

"Not unless you tell him."

Zuko used his breath of fire to crisp the top, the delightful smell of moon peaches and sugar filling the air. After having one, Katara knew immediately why Zuko had fallen in love with them. They were creamy and rich, and Yina could make them in any flavor, even chocolate, which was Katara's favorite. She accepted the dish Zuko handed her, watching as he slowly ate his, savoring every bite. When she smiled again, it was a true smile; the peaceful look he had during his mediations was back. He'd put his spoon down and was licking the inside of the dish and making little happy noises as he cleaned the dish out. When his was gone, he started eyeing hers.

"Get back," Katara said, leaning away from him, and putting a hand on his chest. "You ate yours."

"Well, you only brought me one—"

"You had three yesterday!"

"Today is a new day. Come on, Katara, you're letting it get cold."

They were laughing and struggling, Katara holding the custard way over her head, and she hadn't realized just how much they'd grown until Zuko easily took it from her, going "yoink" in a _very_ Sokka way. She narrowed her eyes at him and pounced, pinning him to the ground with a knee in his chest, but before she could ground herself, he flipped them, pinning her underneath him. She made a startled noise, not having expected him to move her so easily, but she'd taken the custard back, even though, in this moment, it didn't seem to matter much who had it. They were breathing heavily, her heart racing. She begged her face not to betray her. There were still too many things that they needed to be, too many battles to fight.

"I was going easy on you," she said, the color rising in her cheeks.

"I know."

Katara licked her lips, feeling like she should say something, not sure if she should acknowledge the situation, not sure what she would say about it. Not sure what, if anything would come of this. Not sure if anything should.

"Oh, hello!"

Their heads snapped toward the sound. Sokka and Suki were poking their heads out the door, Suki's smile wider than it had any right to be, her hands clasped under her chin. Without the sun slightly blinding her, she could see that Zuko's face was red, too.

"What's going on—"

"We'll come back later," Suki interrupted, whacking Sokka in the shoulder and attempting to shove him back inside. "Breakfast is ready when you are."

"No, wait!"

They'd both yelled, tried to untangle themselves, falling over each other, making things worse, their faces even redder.

"There's nothing going on," she said.

"I just wanted the custard," he said.

Suki just nodded, dragging Sokka back inside and closing the door behind them.

There often wasn't much reason to celebrate. War was brutal and deadly, but none of them could deny the importance of reminding people just why they were fighting.

* * *

Fireworks exploded in the sky, and Zuko stood in the middle of the street, wearing a crown of flowers around his head, his own crown still firmly fixed in his topknot, the weight not nearly as heavy as it was when he'd first started wearing it. Zuko allowed himself a small smile. Progress, his uncle would call it. King Kuei and his bear came to stand beside him, Kuei clapping as another blast went off, sending green sparks into the sky. There was an odd, childlike joy to Kuei, and Zuko regarded the Earth King with some confusion.

"This is amazing," Kuei exclaimed, bouncing with excitement. "And to think I hadn't wanted to come back!"

It had been a struggle to find the wayward king, but the moment they had him back in the palace, Zuko wondered if the world wouldn't have been better off without him around. When they started to test Kuei's knowledge about ruling, the depth of Long Feng's corruption showed itself. Little by little, Kuei was becoming the leader the city needed, but it wasn't enough. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. They could fight as hard as their bodies would allow, they could repel Ozai and win the war, but none of that would matter if there was still a weak link in the alliance. The Fire Nation would need a lot of help. All of their efforts would be wasted if Kuei couldn't pull through for them, their sacrifices would be for nothing. Aang…

Zuko sighed, unable to help the deep sadness in his heart, even as he watched people dance and sing and drink around the giant bonfire in the square in front of the palace. Everyone was wearing a crown of flowers, enjoying the beautiful late spring weather. Everything felt so _alive_. People passed him, shouting happy birthday, or that the war would be over soon, or long live the revolution, or any number of things that were supposed to be uplifting or encouraging.

"I can't believe so many people actually came," Kuei said, turning to him. "There are people from every nation, even the North Pole!"

"Yeah," Zuko said, not sure what else he really could say. "Yeah, it's nice that everyone's finally working together."

"Is that it?" Kuei turned to him, surprised. "It's your birthday, you should be happier! Celebrate!"

"He's right!" Sokka said, coming up beside him and tossing his arm around Zuko's shoulder. "Listen, buddy, we don't get many chances to celebrate like this, so enjoy it."

Members of the Southern and Northern Water Tribes brought out giant drums and set them up around the bonfire. The drumming started off softly at first, just a few drummers beating out a slow rhythm in deep tones that reverberated through the street. People started to gather around the bonfire. More drummers joined, adding in a faster beat, followed by a third set etching a sharp, cracking rhythm with their drumsticks. Sokka was saying something to him, but Zuko's mind started to wander when the dancers came out, and there was Katara, wearing traditional Water Tribe garb, her hair ringed with white flowers. She wasn't as practiced as some of the other dancers, but she had a power and grace that was all her own. He held his breath as the fire flickered golden over her skin, and when the women pulled the water to them, making it spin and twirl and form shapes in the air, Katara had no equal in her mastery of the element. Kuei was clapping again, saying how impressive all of this was.

"She's something else, isn't she?" Sokka said quietly, so that only Zuko could hear.

"Back off—"

"What?" Sokka was sounding too nonchalant, like he wasn't about to meddle in things. "All I'm saying is she's pretty awesome, right?"

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why aren't you up there? Katara made time to learn the dance, why didn't you learn the drumming?"

"I wanted to, believe me, but Dad and I were on a raid when they started."

Sokka waved this off mumbling that he'll learn it next year, trying to redirect the conversation back to Katara, and Zuko never wanted to strangle his best friend more than he did then. They were in the middle of a _war_.

"Listen," Zuko finally said, turning away from the bonfire to look at Sokka. "Look, I…appreciate what you're trying to do—"

"Dude, I don't even think you know—"

"But we're fighting a war right now and there's a lot of work to do—"

"Oh man, you _don't_ know, do you?"

The drums reached a crescendo, and Zuko turned to watch Katara's solo performance. She spun gracefully, the water moving so quickly it blurred, her every move hypnotic, sending the water in a different direction. She looked happy. Carefree.

"Look, all I'm saying is, don't forget to live."

"What?"

Zuko looked at Sokka, trying to ferret out what his friend was saying while still watching the performance. He didn't want to completely look away because Katara would be mad at him if he did, but more than that, he wanted to fix this moment in his mind. When the fights got too hard, or things looked hopeless, staring down a seemingly unending line of soldiers from his own nation, Zuko wanted to be able to recall this moment, to remember the peace and joy that waited them on the other side of war. Besides, how could he forget to live? It wasn't like he could forget to breathe or anything. And there were a lot of people counting on him, so it wasn't like he'd just forget all of his responsibility.

"Look, it's something Dad and your uncle were talking about," Sokka said. "The thing that'll piss Ozai off more than anything is that life continues. People aren't afraid of him, they aren't afraid of the Fire Nation. Hell, they're rallying behind you. Behind all of us."

Katara's solo was coming to an end, and she was smiling brilliantly, falling back in line with the other dancers as the drum beat slowed down. She seemed more confident, people applauding her and raising their cups to her, to them all. She was glowing.

"I'm going to marry Suki."

"What?"

Zuko ripped his attention away from the performance, fully focusing on Sokka, who was actively avoiding looking at his friend. Sokka shrugged, nudging a rock with his foot. He rubbed the back of his head.

"Yeah. I mean, probably not this year, we're just too busy, and in a few months we're going to push toward the colonies again, so, really, probably not anytime soon, but…"

"You're what?"

"Stop looking at me like that. What? You don't like Suki? I thought you liked Suki."

"No, I like Suki, she's great, that's great, you're great—"

"Stop saying great—"

"Married?"

Everyone was clapping and cheering as the performance came to an end, but Zuko could only stare at his best friend. Married. They were too young to be married, there was too much to do, it was too big of a risk just then, too much was still at stake. He started to protest several times, to tell Sokka that they should wait, that they could still die, any of them, at any moment, that there was still a possibility they might lose this war. Ozai had been strong enough to beat the Avatar. But he couldn't deny that Sokka and Suki were good for each other, and didn't they deserve happiness? They were working toward peace, and what better symbol of peace than them continuing to live their lives? What better way to prove that they weren't afraid than to fall in love and get married and have families? What better way to prove the strength of the rebellion?

"You don't think I should?" Sokka looked disappointed, his enthusiasm deflating. "I mean, like I said, it won't be this year, maybe. I probably won't even ask her until next year, but when you know, you just kinda _know_ , you know? I can't imagine anyone else would put up with me the way she does. So…I don't know, we should just make it official?"

"No, I mean…" Zuko smiled, shaking his head. "You should. This is great. Wow. It's just…wow. Married. Congrats?"

Sokka laughed. "Don't congratulate me just yet. I still have to get the courage to go through with it."

The applause died away and Earth Kingdom musicians moved forward to join the Water Tribe drummers, the crowd dispersing to continue the festivities. Zuko slapped Sokka on the back, and the two moved out of the way as a group of revelers came through, pouring drinks for everyone they walked past. They stood in silence for a while, the world around them noisy enough, and Zuko looked for their family. He saw his uncle laughing with Toph over a pai sho board, pulling a few coins from his pocket and sliding them toward her. He knew that Yina wasn't one for parties; she was likely back at Kuei's palace, organizing the food and drink that would be sent out. Hakoda was drinking with his fellow tribesmen, Hau speaking quietly with the new Grand Secretariat, most likely about business and war plans. Suki was probably with Katara. Everyone seemed happy. Content. Willing to forget their troubles for the moment.

"I know you hate celebrating your birthday, but I'm glad your uncle insisted on this party."

Zuko nodded. Iroh did as much as he could to ensure the focus wouldn't be solely on him, and it seemed like the only people who really acknowledged his birthday was his family, which was fine. During his banishment, he hadn't heard much laughter. People were terrified, fearing every shadow, expecting death to be just around the corner. But this? This was different. The fighting was harder, the stakes were higher, but enough people were working together that they were finally able to make a difference. It would be too easy to go back to the way they had been, isolated and cowering, just waiting for Ozai to come for them and destroy them. Iroh, the White Lotus, Hakoda, Arnook, Kuei's Grand Secretariat, Ai, they all came together to plan this celebration. It was working better than fear to bridge the gap between them. Then there was the benefit of making sure Ozai knew they weren't afraid of him anymore, a stark contrast to the message he was desperately trying to send to them. The strength of the rebellion was no secret, and even though Ozai was doing his best to close off the Fire Nation, they still got news.

"If you need help planning something for Suki, let me know," Zuko said. "She'll be so happy."

"Thanks."

Suki was making her way toward them, and Zuko shooed Sokka toward her. They belonged together. Suki's smile was huge, her pace quickening the closer she got to them, Sokka's own smile just as large as hers. When they met, they hugged tightly, Suki resting her head on Sokka's shoulder. Zuko smiled sadly; he didn't think he knew anyone who loved as deeply as they did. It was good that they'd be together. Zuko wasn't jealous at all…

"I'll send Katara over—"

"No, Sokka, you don't—"

"Nonsense! Look, here she is, now."

Before he could protest, both Sokka and Suki were pushing the two of them together. Katara made a little startled noise, her hands on his shoulders, and the moment their eyes met, Zuko felt gangly and foolish, and he wished he could kick himself for blushing.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this took so long. Migraines and work destroyed my writing schedule. But hopefully I can get back on track. Hopefully this was worth the wait!


	4. Loss and Victory

Sometimes they won. Sometimes they lost. Sometimes those victories were hard earned and losses were heavy on both sides. In those fights, there weren't really any winners. Either way, this was war.

Katara froze her water in an arc over her head as another flaming rock slammed into the ground beside her, sending earth and dust into the air. Her heart was racing, her limbs were tired, she was running out of water, and there were still so many soldiers in front of them, and even five tanks was too many when they didn't have a way to destroy them from a distance. She forced herself to stand, the hot wind ripping her hair from its braid and she looked around at the rebellion's forces. Their lines were strong and no matter how hard the Fire Nation pushed, they weren't breaking through. Six years of fighting side by side, blending elements and styles as much as they could, had done nothing but strengthen them. Still, they were tired. Everyone was tired. Something would have to break.

"Master Katara!"

She barely turned in time, ducking as a blast of fire raced toward her. Reaching for what little strength she had, Katara coated her arms in ice up to her elbows and met the oncoming soldier fist to fist, working hard to stay inside his reach the way Piandao had taught her. She wasn't quick enough to dodge a punch and a jolt of pain shot through her shoulder, sending her to her knees. The soldier got a cocky little smile as he reached down, grabbing her hair, and she reached for the anger and the rage, changing her ice gloves to ice daggers. Screaming, she shoved the daggers into his sides as hard as she could. The soldier went down, and Katara lurched forward, falling among several bodies.

"I just need a moment," she told herself, rolling on her back and watching the sky.

More rocks soared overhead, racing toward Omashu. They didn't have the slightest idea how Ozai's forces managed to get so close to them before they'd noticed. Maybe they'd slipped through a gap in the coastal patrols or came from one of the strongholds the Fire Nation still held in the Earth Kingdom. Not that it much mattered. They'd marched on Omashu, perhaps thinking it would be an easier conquest since Bumi was with the White Lotus, looking for the Avatar. Katara allowed herself a small smile. They couldn't have been more wrong.

"Ancestors, help me," Katara groaned, struggling for a second wind as green and gold war balloons flew overhead, dropping bombs on the tanks.

It had taken a while to learn that it was ok to be apart, that even though she and Zuko and Sokka and Suki and Toph were separated, they could still fight just as fiercely. Maybe Ozai had been depending on that—the true strength of the rebellion being scattered across too much territory doing too many things at once. She, Zuko and Toph might have all been in Omashu, but Toph had taken her earthbenders into the desert days ago to work on their sandbending, and she and Zuko were on opposite sides of the battlefield. Sokka was in Ba Sing Se working on adapting more Fire Nation technology for their own uses and Suki was on Kiyoshi, training more Kiyoshi Warriors. They were all doing important work, things that _needed_ to be done if this rebellion was going to survive beyond the immediate goal of replacing Ozai. But, just then, it would have been fantastic to have her friends fighting by her side and lending her strength when she felt she had none.

At least she had one friend she could turn to just then. Her father always said that a good leader knew when to pull back or call the fight, that sometimes it was better to take a moment and regroup. She needed to get to Zuko. Reaching for the moisture in the air, Katara cut down the soldiers in front of her as one of the rebellion's war balloons exploded overhead. They still had too few of them, and yet they were the resistance's best weapon against the near-impregnable tanks when they couldn't get their earthbenders close enough. They were rushing production as much as they could, but there was _so much_ to do, and with Ozai doing his best to remind everyone that he was still a nuisance, they didn't seem to ever have enough time or materials…

Focus. Katara struggled to pull her mind away from a thousand other worries, and focused on the battle. They needed to regroup.

"Fall back," she yelled, hoping she remembered the hand signal and that enough people would notice. "Fall back!"

The Fire Nation soldiers would notice the retreat almost immediately and start working to push them back further than they wanted. She sent two runners to find Zuko and get him to pull back closer to Omashu's walls where they'd hopefully have the support of some trebuchets, or be able to take the high ground. Heaving, Katara turned and ran, giving the command again every time she passed their soldiers— _her_ soldiers—leaping over dead bodies, too afraid to see what colors they wore. She tried to help anywhere she could, freezing metal armor, sending spears into bodies, doing her best to avoid flying rocks and sometimes failing to fully dodge blasts of fire, and certainly failing to sidestep the soldier reaching out for her. They got a grip on her injured soldier, and Katara screamed as nails dug into her, pinching and twisting, and her vision went white and her knees weak as she sank to the ground. Gasping for air, Katara pulled out her tanto knives and blindly stabbed behind her, feeling the metal bite into flesh.

These were not the kinds of battles they fought on their own when they were helping Aang. These were categorically _different_. They were fierce and primal and deadly. Everyone was fighting for their way of life, and as much as Katara wanted to lie down and not do anything, she knew that she couldn't. Her only solace was the great red burst of flame that exploded over her head, even if it was accompanied by agonizing screams.

"Are you alright?" Zuko ducked a blast, crouching on the ground near her.

"I've been better," she grumbled, still smiling as she accepted his help.

Zuko chuckled as they sent out a few signals, yelling commands, reorganizing their forces. They needed to take out those tanks, and even if they couldn't completely destroy Ozai's forces that day, they had one message to send him:

They would never surrender.

* * *

Zuko stood atop Omashu's wall, away from the other generals as they watched soldiers clear the battlefield. He frowned. There were so many bodies, so many dead on both sides. Somehow, they'd managed to escape this kind of carnage when they were fighting with Aang. Or, had they just failed to see it? There was no way that this kind of death didn't happen just because they were a bunch of naïve children. A familiar sickness rolled through Zuko's stomach, and he tried to remind himself that he wasn't the same person anymore, that sixteen year old him might have been desperately lost and confused but he hadn't done… _this_.

"We have to stop this," he muttered.

"Damn right."

Toph and Katara were heading toward him, and Zuko tried to stifle the immediate worry at seeing Katara's arm in a sling. She was a grown woman. She could take care of herself. She didn't need someone like him fussing over her. If it was serious enough, she would have just healed herself. But maybe she was tired and didn't have the energy to do it. She'd looked pretty exhausted when he found her during the fight, and if she had any energy left, no doubt she'd spent it helping others. She always gave everything she had to others, often not saving anything for herself…

"You're not listening to me."

"What?"

Zuko rubbed the back of his head. Toph had her arms crossed and was giving him a smug smile, but Katara was smiling softly at him. He looked away. This wasn't the time or the place.

"Anyway," Toph continued, leaning on the wall, "I agree. We can't let this kind of carnage continue. It's been six years, and all we've done is waste people's lives. I've already told Sugar Queen about my plan—"

"Toph—"

"Don't 'Toph' me."

She flung her arm out toward Zuko, and he took a half step back, not quite expecting her ferocity. She was wearing one of her new metal suits that she'd designed for optimal metalbending, and it did make her more of an imposing figure, despite her still being so small. She was pouring everything she had into this fight, but Zuko still worried. Aang's death hit her harder than she'd admitted. They'd all been changed in ways they hadn't expected. But he didn't want her to give in to anger. He didn't want any of them to become twisted. He wished Sokka was there. Sokka was better at making sure they all laughed.

"Unless we push them, they're not going to be bold enough," Toph said, firmly planting her feet on the ground. "Our so-called leaders are going to tiptoe around what _really_ needs to happen. We need to strike for the capitol and put an end to this."

"If it was that easy, we would," Zuko said, running his hands through his hair. "We could head straight for the capitol, just…throw all our strength at the Fire Nation, but that's not going to get us anywhere. We need a stronger, longer lasting peace, and I believe everyone when they say this is the way to do it. We could kick Ozai out, but right now, I'm know there are too many places where his supporters can hide and rebuild. We need to make the world stronger. Everyone has to—"

"I know the speech," Toph said, waving this away. "But we need to start putting the idea in their heads now, or they'll never do it."

There were times when Zuko really did just want to strike for the capitol. There had to be a way to strengthen world relationships and take Ozai out at the same time. It wasn't right that he should be left unchecked, destroying the world. He'd already burned a huge part of the Earth Kingdom, and even though they'd managed to reclaim some territories, it just wasn't enough. Ozai always seemed to be one step ahead of them, always with better trained soldiers, always with the tanks, with more war balloons, with more people. It was always their people that suffered, their cities; Ozai hadn't felt the sting of war. He never had. He'd always managed to escape everything. It wasn't fair. It wasn't _right_ …

"Zuko."

The voice was firm, commanding. Breaking him out of painful, angry thoughts. Zuko took a deep breath, forcing the fire away from his fingertips. He hadn't felt that kind of pointless anger since he was sixteen. He started to say something to Toph, but she had her arms crossed, no doubt ready to deliver a smart retort. But it wasn't her who called him. Katara had taken several steps forward, her hand on his arm. He hadn't even noticed that she'd gotten so close, and he tried not to blush. He was being foolish.

"She's right," Katara said softly.

She was holding onto his arm a little tighter, her face serious in a way that worried him. They'd been planning something, and Zuko had the distinct feeling that he wouldn't like it. It would be dangerous, but then, wasn't everything they were doing dangerous? They were fighting a war. They couldn't afford to be timid anymore.

"You know I'm not one to blindly rush into things," Katara said, "but she's right. This…this is too wasteful. We can't be defensive forever, always waiting for Ozai to attack. He'll see it as a sign of weakness, and it'll make him bolder. We _cannot_ allow that to happen."

The soldiers were almost done cleaning up the battlefield, taking bodies inside to be identified and prepped for burial. After six years, Zuko had hoped that bearing the loss and the pain would get easier, but everyone kept assuring him that, so long as he was a good leader, it never would. That it should never be easy. Each decision would be harder than the last. Every time he was asked to weigh one course of action against another, to consider what would be an acceptable loss of life…

"I know it's not easy," Katara said, stepping closer to him, her face pained. "I…"

"It's ok." Zuko covered her hand with his.

It felt weirdly good to be able to smile about this, and when Katara smiled, Zuko tried to ignore the fluttering in the pit of his stomach. That was just nerves and nothing more, he told himself.

"I'm still here, you know," Toph said. "We've got a lot of planning to do, so I need the two of you to focus. And when we meet up with Sokka and Suki, we'll have to convince them, too. We all need to be on board with this. Those old farts are going to take a lot of convincing."

Toph slapped them on their backs, probably harder than was necessary, pushing them into each other then heading off the wall. When Katara stumbled, he caught her, and for a fraction of a second, Zuko could have sworn he felt the world shift around him. Or maybe he'd just been listening to his overly romantic uncle for too long.

"You ok?"

Zuko nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think the exhaustion is just setting in."

"Let's meet up with the others and debrief, then," Katara said with a small smile. "The sooner we finish with business, the sooner we can rest."

She headed toward the stairs, and Zuko lingered just a little longer, casting one last look over the battlefield. There was an end goal. Every inch they won, every drop of blood they spilled, was all toward making the world a better place, where there was balance and people weren't cowering in fear.

They had to find a way to convince the generals to be more aggressive. It was time to bring the fight to Ozai.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this one took so long. The end of the month at work is always insane, especially with the holidays tossed right in there. Hopefully my writing/posting schedule will get back on track and I won't have such big delays between posting time for this next round.


	5. The Avatar

They'd found her. The next Avatar.

And when Ozai's generals came to steal her away from the Southern Water Tribe, they got one hell of a fight.

The ground exploded next to Zuko, and he slapped the debris away with a heated hand, cursing the slush the Fire Nation soldiers were creating as he slipped and nearly went down. The world was chaos, and Zuko reached for the calm inside of him. He needed the calm, because the outcome of this fight would change everything. Ozai could not get his hands on the avatar. He'd already destroyed one; he _could not_ be allowed to destroy another.

They had been prepared for an assault from the Fire Nation, and thanks to the devastating loss they'd suffered at Omashu, they were ready. In secret, they'd started to move their forces to surround the Avatar and her family, setting up hidden checkpoints that would spot the Fire Nation the moment they crossed into Southern Waters. No one had been surprised by the size of the fleet Ozai sent to capture the Avatar. It was clear he'd planned to lay siege to the South, much the same way he'd done to the North, and they'd done their best to prepare, but there was only so much they could do with fewer resources at their disposal. That didn't mean they couldn't get creative.

Three soldiers were coming toward Zuko, but he didn't have time to deal with them. He needed to get to Katara. He reached inside his boot and threw a dagger at one, cracking another across the face with a fire whip as he got too close. The third paused, rethinking the strategy, but Zuko needed them out of the way, pulling out his dao and feinting low before running the sword through a weak point in the armor.

"Katara!"

She wouldn't be able to hear him over the noise, but he hoped that she would at least feel that he was coming. They had been able to plan for the Fire Nation, for them to do an aerial assault, a land assault or a sea assault, for them to send stealth assassins or the entirety of their army. They'd been able to plan for the attack to come at different times of the year, or for them to lure the Avatar away from the South. The thing they hadn't counted on was the little girl they were trying to protect, the Avatar herself, _running into the fray_ , fully expecting to hold her own against seasoned warriors. The rebels had shifted and done their best to form a protective circle around the Avatar, but the Fire Nation had taken advantage of the chaos, spreading them out and isolating them, so that only Katara was protecting the Avatar. Zuko reached deep to the pit of his stomach and let out a brilliant stream of fire, hoping to carve a clear path to the Avatar. To Katara.

Taking advantage of the clearing in front of him Zuko ran as fast as he could. Katara was facing down four soldiers, intent on taking the Avatar back with them, killing everyone who stood in their way if they had to. Her ice shield was breaking, and he had no way of knowing how long she'd been in this standoff, but he could see her breathing heavily. Heart beating quickly, Zuko reached for another burst of speed, but something crashed into him, sending him flying to the side, the world spinning. He barely had time to register the challenger as he rolled, trying to dodge fire blast after fire blast, more soldiers noticing him, noticing the crown in his hair, yelling things at him, some faces confused, some twisting with anger as they forgot their training, going for primal brutality. There wasn't time to panic; Zuko righted himself, pulling his arms close before letting out a wide spray of fire like his uncle taught him, searching for Katara, knowing he had to get to her.

He was able to break free from this group, yelling Katara's name again, getting closer and closer to her, soldiers realizing what he was doing, some going to help their comrades, others running after him. Arrows whizzed by, dropping soldiers to his left, and Zuko spared a glance to see archers in green parkas, thankful that Hakoda had them practice with the heavy coats. Still, it didn't seem to be enough, no matter how far he ran, it felt like he was never getting closer, and his progress was halted again when he caught a sword hilt in his ribs. Something came down hard on his head, and his vision exploded white as he fell, his whole body hurting.

He _could not_ let them get her. He would rip the sun from the sky to save her.

Katara dropped to one knee as the soldiers hit her shield with simultaneous blasts of fire, and Zuko knew that he had one chance. Southern and Earth Kingdom soldiers were surrounding him, and someone was talking to him, but his head was ringing and he couldn't quite hear them. The soldiers were advancing and the shield was cracking, and Zuko's heart clenched in a way that it hadn't done in years, as a black sword cut down a soldier in front of him, several people pulling him to his feet.

They would not have her.

Grounding himself, Zuko moved his hands in a well practiced motion, his heart thudding in his chest as he did his best to ignore the pain in his body and trust that he would be protected. He focused his mind on his goal, on his target. Iroh once told him that he was too conflicted to generate lighting. Things had changed greatly since those days. _He_ had changed greatly.

Opening his eyes and focusing on the soldiers, Zuko let loose with everything he had.

* * *

Katara mumbled as she roughly pat the gash on Zuko's head, cursing him for such stupidity. Yes, everyone had made it out of the battle alive, even if they had some injuries. Yes, they beat back the Fire Nation, claiming another hard won victory for the rebellion. Reinforcements had arrived from Kiyoshi, providing support, allowing them to sink or capture several Fire Navy ships. When the Fire Nation retreated, none of them believed that the fight to protect the Avatar was over. For the moment, though, they had a reprieve. Katara put the gauze down on the bed and took a few deep breaths, trying to stop the shaking before she went for the needle to sew up Zuko's wound.

"Can't you just use your bending?" he asked.

"Be quiet, you."

She huffed and put her fists on her hips, wishing the adrenaline would finally leave her. As soon as they'd secured the coast, she and Zuko had met up with Toph, Sokka and Suki to escort the Avatar and her family back to the chief's house. Her family would be under protection of the White Lotus, and pretty soon, they'd be secreted away from the South to some place where they would be safe for a time. They would go to the ends of the earth to keep the little girl out of Ozai's hands, but she wouldn't be able to stay underground forever. What kind of life was that for a child? They'd talked about several places to send her, but ultimately, the fewer people who knew where she was going, the better. Katara chuckled and held herself tightly, resting her head on the bedpost. None of that was the reason she couldn't stop shaking.

"Katara? Are you ok?"

Zuko came up behind her, and Katara held her breath as he wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back against him, taking comfort in the rise and fall of his chest, even as tears started the blur her vision. It was easier to be angry with him for being so reckless than it was to confront the way she felt when she that soldier hit him with the hilt of his sword, or the sheer terror in the core of her being as the lightning left his fingers, even if he was surrounded by their people, and Sokka was right beside him, making sure no one interrupted. Easier to reach for anger than to acknowledge that she would have let the Avatar die in order to save him.

"I'm fine," she said brusquely, pushing away from Zuko and picking up her water skin.

She pointed to the stool, and Zuko sat obediently, grunting and moving gingerly, his hands folded in his lap. Katara narrowed her eyes at him. And there was the guilt. It wouldn't be right to yell at him. As much as she wanted to, her heart wouldn't let her. She'd been too happy when the lightning left his body, had been ecstatic when it tore through the soldiers in front of her. She'd been filled with anger and happiness and pride, and even though she had no right to lay any claim to Zuko's accomplishment, she felt special that he would choose that moment to try something so risky just to save her. Shaking her head, Katara pulled the water from the skin and coaxed it into a glow over Zuko's cut.

"You scared me."

It was such an inadequate thing to say, but she had every confidence that he'd understand her. He always had. Whatever bond they'd formed in that cave after he'd taken her to confront her mother's killer had only strengthened over the years. There were times when they'd had whole conversations without words. He always just knew, and this time was no different.

"I'd do it again."

"You didn't even know that it would work."

"I had to try."

"And those soldiers running toward you?" The anger was starting to come out.

"For better or worse…"

Zuko trailed off, looking away from her. He was turning over some thought in his mind, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed in a way she'd seen Iroh do many times. Katara let him think over what he wanted to say as she watched the skin start to knit together, keeping in mind her teachings from the North. Waterbending healing was a great thing, but if you used it too much, especially for the little things, the body might start to lose the ability to heal itself. She focused on this, even as she realized she was just avoiding thinking about harder things.

"It…"

Zuko sighed and started to run his hands through his hair, but Katara slapped his hands away, keeping him from touching his wound. She bandaged it, then went to lean against the window. It was snowing again, giant, fluffy white flakes floating to the ground. She wondered how many snowfalls it would take to cover the blood. Outside, Sokka was playing with the young Avatar, Korra. She could faintly hear the childish screams as she tried to dodge a snowball Sokka was throwing at her.

"I chose you."

"What?"

"I chose you," Zuko repeated. His cheeks were pink. "If…If Ozai captured the Avatar, I don't think he would kill her right away. I know that he's become increasingly twisted over the years, but…" Zuko sighed, picking at his pants. "I think he would try to use her, to train her to love the Fire Nation or try to convince her that we were the bad guys, or…I don't know. I think he'd try to use her before completely writing her off. To demoralize us."

Katara turned this over, nodding slowly. They'd spent many a late night talking over what would happen if any of them got captured. A bottle of strong booze to share between them, she, Zuko, Sokka, Suki and Toph had drafted their plan to push toward the capitol, taking more of an offensive role in this fight. When they'd gone to convince the generals, they'd had to fight hard for it, meetings often turning into yelling matches, the older generals writing them off, saying they were just children and what did they know. But the generals relented and reason won. And every battle after that, Katara felt vindicated when they struck first against Ozai's forces and won. But during these late nights, huddled around a small table, liquor shared between them, their voices hushed, they admitted that they were scared. Aang was supposed to be the best among them, and Ozai had killed him. What chance did any of them stand? Toph, perhaps, held onto the anger longer than any of them. She was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, taking her metalbending to a new, lethal level. She wanted to push right toward the capitol as soon as possible and destroy Ozai. To pay him back for all the hurt he'd caused them.

"There would be a chance that we could get her back," Katara whispered, finishing Zuko's thought, unable to shake memories of whispered conversations.

"It's selfish, and dumb, I know. And it was beyond risky, and I'm surprised you haven't laid into me yet." Zuko rubbed the back of his head. "But…you're important to me. I didn't want them to have you. I couldn't let them have you."

His voice was quiet, and Katara felt her cheeks heating up. She was being silly and foolish. Her mind was a jumble because of the battle. She didn't have her thoughts straight yet. This was not a time to blush. Zuko was protective of them all. They were all protective of each other. They had to be. Outside, Korra screamed as Sokka shoved a wad of snow down the back of her parka, and Zuko came to the window to watch.

"Seven years," he whispered.

"Seven years."

She reached out for him and he grabbed her hand without looking, giving it a firm squeeze before they let go. There was a loud slap on the door, and they both tensed, even though they knew exactly who it was.

"Put your clothes on," Toph yelled. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Very funny, Toph," Zuko called. "Go clean up."

"Whatever, _dad_."

Katara smiled. Toph would do it, though. She might not listen to many others, but Toph always listened to her and Zuko. Called them the team's parents. Downstairs, Korra's mother, a wonderful woman named Senna, Gran Gran, and a few other women from the Southern and Northern tribes were preparing a large dinner. There would probably be a formal celebration in the weeks to come, something to celebrate the Avatar. Suki was calling Sokka and Korra inside, and Korra extended her arms to Sokka. He picked her up and put the young girl on his shoulders. Sokka was a great big brother.

"Hey."

Zuko held his arms open, and Katara stepped into his embrace. Standing on the tips of her toes, she put her arms around his neck and hugged her best friend as tightly as she could, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her pressed against him. She didn't let herself believe that he breathed deeply of her, that the little noise he made was because he was enjoying this hug a great deal. She swore that her heart didn't speed up when his lips grazed her neck as he sincerely apologized for scaring her, promised her that he wouldn't do it again.

"I will always be scared going into battle," Katara said. "I can't lose you. Any of you."

She hastily added the last part, glad that he couldn't see her and hoping that he wouldn't be able detect anything in her voice.

"If I have to storm the palace myself, I give you my word that this war will not last forever."

"Now you're just being foolish again."

When Zuko laughed, it was the warm, pleasant sound she'd come to love and appreciate, so different from the way he used to laugh when she first met him. This laugh had more confidence, as if he'd truly figured out what laughter was, as if he was no longer just mimicking a sound he'd heard others make. When she tried to pull away, Zuko held her tighter, and she didn't fight him, glad for his warmth. He held her for a minute longer, before finally letting go.

"Thank you," Katara whispered, squeezing his hands. "Thank you for risking everything for me."

Zuko shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, blushing as he mumbled that it was nothing, and that he'd gladly do it again. All this blushing, like they were two kids experiencing…what? He opened his mouth a few times as if he was going to speak, his face getting a little redder as he looked out the window toward the setting sun. Just when he looked like he'd made up his mind, someone was knocking at the door.

"Katara? Zuko? You kids alright in there?"

It was her father. Zuko chuckled, shaking his head and shooing her toward the door. Before she could protest, he was turning to the bed and picking up their parkas. He'd already swallowed whatever words he was about to say, and seven years of knowing him said that she'd probably never get to hear whatever her father had interrupted.

"We're just finishing up," Katara said, opening the door.

"How's he doing?"

"Fine," Zuko answered.

"Lucky," Katara grumbled.

Laughing, Hakoda gestured for them to follow. Dinner was ready.


	6. Embrace

Few things in life made Zuko feel like an awkward gangly teenager, and with Sokka and Suki's wedding in a few days, it seemed like Zuko was experiencing all of them. For some reason, he kept getting dragged along on shopping trips where Sokka asked his opinion about party favors and food and color combinations. Zuko had the distinct impression that Sokka was fishing for information, especially when he started asking who Zuko would be bringing and refusing to accept the answer "myself."

Or maybe he knew that Zuko was going to put this off until the last possible moment. But he didn't. Not quite.

Nervously bunching the end of his shirt, Zuko tried to focus on his task. It was three days before the wedding, and now Suki was asking him who he was going to bring, and he really did have a specific person in mind, but everyone was acting like it was such a simple thing to just ask her. Well, really, it _was_ a simple thing, but it was also really complicated and what if he messed it up, but she was just a friend and they were just going as friends and, really, this was only to make Sokka and Suki stop asking him. And also maybe to get his uncle to stop asking if he needed any help. And also maybe to get Hakoda to stop suggesting people. And also maybe because Gran Gran kept suggesting one person in particular and threatening to ask on his behalf. Why the hell was he so nervous?

Katara dried her hands on her apron then leaned against the kitchen counter, tilting her head to the side. Zuko blinked dumbly a few times, trying not to think of all the ways this could go horribly, incredibly wrong. He started twisting the ends of his shirt even more. When Katara frowned at him, slapping his hands so he'd stop, he started nervously rubbing the back of his head. This earned him a stern look as Katara put her fists on her hips and stamped her foot. He'd talked to her for far too many years to be this nervous, had asked her entirely too many questions during their friendship to be unable to figure out how to ask this one. Simple. Thing.

"Zuko, stop it, seriously, what's gotten into you—"

"Nothing, it's just that, you know… Sokka and Suki are getting married in a few days, you know. Of course you know, he's your brother and you've been helping with the planning, so of course you know. It's…I mean, Gran Gran said I should…I mean…Sokka told me, too, and he said that if I didn't bring someone, he'd set me up with someone, and it's not that Sokka's friends aren't nice, they're very nice people, but…I just…"

"He wants you to be his date for the wedding," Kanna said, walking into the kitchen with a sack of rice.

Zuko winced, but did his best to give Katara a smile, even though his palms were sweating like crazy, and he was sure he'd pass out. They were friends, right? Even if he felt his blood ignite when he was near her sometimes, they were still friends.

"Thanks," he mumbled, not daring to take his eyes away from Katara.

"You're welcome," Kanna said, patting him on the back as she exited.

Sometimes, Katara didn't like to let on just how excited she was about something. He could always tell by the way she struggled not to smile, how she'd shift from foot to foot, resolutely keeping her arms at her sides. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until she smiled at him, brilliantly, dazzling, her eyes lighting up as she bounced on the tips of her toes before settling down. His entire body relaxed, except for the fluttering in the pit of his stomach, and Zuko could feel his cheeks heating up again.

"I'd love to," she said, straining to sound calm. "I'm sure it would be a lot of fun."

He was probably being a little dramatic, but it felt like his heart stopped when she smiled at him. It really had been a simple thing, and a little voice in his mind said that he was silly for thinking she might say no.

"Katara, I…"

She was looking down at the ends of her apron, playing with a loose string, her cheeks bright red. She was trying not to smile, and when she looked at him, Zuko was certain that his heart _did_ stop. He'd known her for eight years. He knew everything about her, knew secrets she wouldn't even tell her brother. He'd seen her at her most vulnerable and at her angriest. He'd been the target of that anger more times than he should admit, too. So why was his brain fighting against him, now? If he ever needed a clear mind so that he wouldn't mess up this one chance…

"I…haven't gotten a present for Sokka yet," Katara said, pulling the thread and unraveling the seam. "I was wondering if you'd help me? The two of you are such good friends, and I don't know if I'd get him the right thing."

"You're his sister. You'll always know him better than I will."

The words were out before he'd had time to process just what she was asking, and by the time one smile faded and was replaced by another, sly one, Zuko's face was already as red as his crown and he wanted nothing more than to take a swim in the arctic ocean. Groaning, Zuko tried to run away, to save what little dignity he had left, but before he could take two steps, Katara threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Her laugh was soft and caring, not mocking at all, as she laid her head on his shoulder and whispered that he was such a dork. Zuko wrapped his arms around her, almost feeling light headed.

"We'll go tomorrow."

"Can we go today?" she whispered. "I can't wait that long."

Words were too hard just then, so he nodded. Katara kissed his cheek before practically skipping out of the kitchen, and Zuko sank into a chair, his face hurting from smiling so much, completely unable to care that his uncle "just so happened" to be walking past the kitchen.

* * *

The ceremony was beautiful.

It had been a priority to rebuild the South, and with the help of Northern waterbenders and Earth Kingdom engineers, the tribe that had once been little more than a smattering of people clinging to an iceberg had blossomed into a bustling city. Every time Katara visited, it reminded her more and more of the stories Gran Gran used to tell her as a child, and it absolutely delighted her that she was able to share this with her friends. There wasn't a more perfect setting for Sokka and Suki's wedding.

Everyone was gathered along a ridge, the highest point of the settlement, the full moon and bright stars providing the perfect backdrop for the ceremony. Sokka stood tall, never taking his eyes off Suki as Northern and Southern village elders asked the ancestors for blessings and threw colored powders into the great bonfire in front of them. Sokka whispered something to Suki, and she started to cry again, her smile even wider than it was before, as Hakoda put a dagger in their hands. He bound them together with a length of leather, and three times they circled the fire as drums beat out a steady, low rhythm. When this was done, the elders stepped back and the Fire Sage who'd escaped with them stepped forward. He lit incense and drew a few characters with the smoke trails, then anointed them with ash.

Katara snuggled even closer to Zuko, trying to keep her imagination under control, but when Zuko tightened his arm around her, she couldn't help feeling a deep _something_ inside of her. She promised herself again that she would wait until the wedding was over, keep her distance if she had to, then rethink things. There was too much at risk to rush into this blindly, and she wanted to be _sure_ , because there were some people she couldn't live without.

"This is amazing," Zuko whispered.

He babbled about the moon and the stars and the fire and the colors and all the nations coming together to bless Sokka and Suki, but when she turned toward him, he wasn't watching the festivities. Beautiful golden eyes were watching her, and his smile was so warm and happy, and the way he looked at her made her question why she'd ever waited so long to admit anything to herself. She watched him as he talked, admiring the way he looked in his deep blue parka and his red and gold crown, idly wondering if he'd wear more blue if she told him how handsome he looked.

"You're beautiful," he blurted.

No compliment had ever meant more to her, and Katara desperately wanted to not be one of those girls with their heads in the clouds, full of nothing but men, but for the past three days, amongst the chaos of final wedding preparations and battle plans and negotiations, she'd been _happy_ and her mind had been full of Zuko. If this was to be a brief interlude in the turmoil that was their lives, so be it.

King Kuei was waddling forward, bundled head to toe like a child in an overstuffed green coat. He held a basket of flowers, and his advisors had to remind him to speak louder several times as he stumbled through an Earth Kingdom blessing, ringing Sokka and Suki with brightly colored petals. Then it was Iroh's turn, and he spoke about the customs of the Air Nomads, about the winds of change and prosperity. With a fan, he created little puffs of air in an intricate pattern, chanting something softly with a slight smile. The cadence of his words reminded Katara of the way Appa beat his tail against the ground the night Aang had died. No matter how much she wanted to forget the unbelievable sadness of that night, she knew that she never would, and when she sniffled, Zuko gently wiped away her tears. His smile was sad; they'd tried to explain to the others how Appa's song managed to get inside of you, to make you feel the loss the way he did, and understand the depth of their relationship, but they'd never been able to find the words. Zuko started to say something, opening his mouth slightly, but changing his mind. He squeezed her tightly as they turned back to the ceremony. Her father had been right. Each year, the pain dulled a little more, and she could focus on Aang's life, rather than his death.

After Iroh was finished, powders were handed to Sokka and Suki. With their joined hands, they tossed the green and blue powders into the fire, and the blaze shot up, everyone exclaiming in delight, clapping loudly as the drums started a new, up-tempo beat. Everyone was bathed in a brilliant blue-green light as they cheered. Katara clapped loudly for her brother as he kissed his wife. With the ceremony over, it was time for the feast, which was undoubtedly everyone's favorite part. The drummers led the procession, Sokka and Suki following. Katara grabbed Zuko's arm when he tried to join the masses heading for the Great Hall.

They waited as the crowd headed to the feast, standing in the growing silence until there were only a few stragglers left. Heart racing, Katara threw her arms around Zuko's neck and kissed him, hoping like she never hoped before that she understood him and could read his moods and emotions. He hesitated only a moment before kissing her back, his hands at her waist, and Katara felt limp and lightheaded, but refused to let go, to let this moment end. A deep part of her wanted to believe that it was just emotion brought out by a beautiful ceremony, that they would just be part of a group making questionable decisions that night. That would be easier than confronting the fear and the possibility of a dark future that waited for them.

"I'm sorry," Katara said breathlessly, her lips tingling. "I just—"

Zuko didn't give her a chance to finish, one hand at her waist, the other under her chin as he kissed her again. She could feel his warmth through his parka, like a pleasant fire, and she pulled him closer, her heart thundering against her chest. Zuko's knees buckled, but he didn't let her go, crushing her against him, and she deepened the kiss, all doubt suppressed for the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both red and panting and smiling, and several times Zuko tried to say something. Neither one of them could find words, so they just laughed until they were doubled over, the fire still roaring behind them. And when the laughter died away, they kissed again.

By the time they made it to the Great Hall, the feast had been in full swing for hours, the noise almost deafening as another toast was being made to Sokka and Suki. It didn't take long for Hakoda and Iroh to spot them, and from the way they were smiling and whispering conspiratorially, Katara figured it would be better to get to them sooner rather than later. She tried to pull away, quickly thinking of something to tell them that would keep all meddling to a minimum, but Zuko held her hand.

"Let them think what they want," he said, leaning down so she could hear him.

When she tried to protest, he pulled her to him and kissed her, and one thought stood out in her mind:

This feels right.


	7. Momentous

Katara groaned, doing her best to ignore the insistent knocking on her door. It was well into the night, and she'd only just gotten back to Ba Sing Se. Her trip to the Fire Nation colonies had been enlightening and, nine years after the war should have ended, they were getting ready to move their base of operations to the colonies. It was exciting and terrifying and _exhausting_. Which was exactly why she needed that person to take the hint that she was trying to sleep and come back at a more appropriate hour.

"What?" she finally yelled, ripping the covers back and storming toward the door.

"Hurry!"

Her heart stopped the moment she heard that voice, and a thousand thoughts and images went through her mind at once, leaving her feeling somewhere between overwhelming joy and intense nervousness. How long had it been since she'd seen Zuko? Close to six months with practically no communication? They hadn't had much time to explore their relationship after the Sokka and Suki's wedding. They had some delightful months getting to explore a different side of each other, but they'd had to share their time with the war effort, going over scouting reports in preparation for this big push to move into the colonies. Even then, they'd found moments to sneak off…

"Katara?"

"Coming!"

She'd rushed the end of her trip so that she could get back to Ba Sing Se to be there when Zuko's ship got in. Unfortunately, Zuko had done the exact opposite, apparently extending his trip. She'd waited for him at the docks, but he hadn't been on the ship. But now, here he was, knocking in her door in the middle of the night. Heart beating way too fast, her smile so wide it hurt her face, Katara stopped in front of the mirror, hastily combing her fingers through her hair and tugging at her shirt, wondering if she should put on pants, then she turned to her wardrobe, considering changing her clothes altogether. Would it really matter? Tugging at her hair, she went to open the door.

Whatever Zuko had been about to say died on his lips the moment the door was open. The unbound, boyish excitement dripped away as his expression shifted and softened. When he smiled at her, butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. She felt like a teenager, awkward and unsure of herself, and she looked up at him through her lashes, not sure if she was smiling too much, if it would be too forward to invite him in. But it wasn't like they could just go roam the halls, and she was sure neither one of them wanted to sit in an office. Mumbling, she stepped to the side to let him in, and Zuko entered hesitantly, perhaps only then realizing that he would have to come inside. But it wasn't technically _her_ room. It was just the room they'd given her when she'd arrived at the palace. She closed the door gently behind her, and turned to Zuko.

"I missed you," he blurted, his voice just a little too loud. "I…I missed you. A lot."

There was no way to stop the smile from spreading, and she hadn't even registered the bundle in his arms, just looking at _him_. The way his hair had grown, now down to his shoulders, and he was actually growing a bit of a beard, even though he swore he never would. Her heart beat quicker as she stepped closer to him, and he sat the bundle on her bed. It didn't take long to bridge the gap between them, and the moment she was in his arms, it was as if the world around her had disappeared. He crushed her against his body, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the tips of her toes, determined that there not be any space between them.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, his lips against her neck.

Katara didn't trust herself to speak, completely surprised by the tickle at the corner of her eyes. All things considered, six months wasn't a long time. They had been apart for longer, depending on what the rebellion needed of them, but for some reason, this felt so much longer than the other times. Katara pulled away first, even though she could feel Zuko resisting her, but she only giggled, grabbing his face and bringing him to her for a kiss. He was incredibly warm and inviting, and he matched every ounce of passion. His hands were on her waist, trying to pull her even closer, and Katara felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach as she wound her fingers in his hair, and when he deepened the kiss, running his tongue along her lip, she responded in kind until they were making out like carefree kids. He made a little noise as he pushed into her, and it was setting her on fire, his hands tightening around her as her legs went weak. It was hard to ignore the stirring in her body, the way their breath was coming in ragged gasps. With a lot of effort, Katara pulled away, her lips tingling pleasantly.

"I missed you, too," she said, resting her head against his bare chest.

"Sorry, I couldn't wait until morning," Zuko said, shooting fire toward a few lanterns in her room. "I only got in a few hours ago, and I couldn't sleep. I had to see you."

She blushed as he led her toward the bed, glad for the dim lighting. "If it was anyone else but you, I would have bent them halfway toward the South Pole by now."

Zuko smiled warmly at her as he tenderly unwrapped the red bundle he'd sat down. When the object was completely uncovered, Katara stared at it dumbly. An _egg_? She looked between the egg and Zuko, her brain not quite processing what she was seeing.

"What…"

"Touch it."

There was undisguised joy on Zuko's face, so this couldn't be some kind of trick. Zuko was terrible at tricks, anyway. She reached out to touch the egg, grazing it lightly with her fingertips. Something _moved_ inside and she ripped her hand away, understanding dawning on her, even as her brain fought against it.

"Where did you go?" She whispered quietly as she traced faint veins of gold on the porcelain white shell. "Tui and La, Ancestors preserve me, Zuko, this can't be…"

"I'm sorry I wasn't here yesterday," he said. "I'm really not supposed to be telling anyone this, so you can't tell anyone, but the Sun Warriors sent me a letter while I was investigating one of the colonies. They invited me back to speak with the Masters."

Zuko recounted the tale for her as she inspected the egg, how they made him go through several rituals and dress as one of them. They'd made him meditate for almost three days straight in a hot cave, left him alone with his thoughts, and finally, as the sun rose on the fourth day, the Masters, Ran and Shaw, came to meditate with him, and they did the Dancing Dragon together, and it was one of the most amazing experiences in his life. They'd deemed him worthy, and when he was leaving, the Sun Warriors gave him this egg and told him that soon it would hatch, that he would have the first dragon in nearly 100 years. They'd given him a pile of books and bid him good luck, saying they knew this precious creature was in good hands. As Zuko quieted, Katara put her whole palm on the egg, and she couldn't help the delighted smile as she felt the pulse. She could feel the _life_ inside.

"Wow…" It was all she could say, and it was so, incredibly insufficient for everything he'd told her. "Does your uncle know?"

Zuko shook his head. "He was already sleeping when I got in."

Katara nodded, biting the inside of her cheeks to stop from smiling. "So, what now?"

"We wait, I guess."

Zuko took the blanket and made a nest on the nightstand, then gingerly laid the egg in it. It was adorable how tender he was being as he hummed a fragment of a song and stroked the egg, making sure that it was secure. Katara wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing him between his shoulders. He shivered, letting out a ragged breath.

"So," he said once he was satisfied that the egg was secure. "Tell me what you've been up to."

"Well, certainly nothing as exciting as you."

Still, he listened patiently as they got under the covers, extinguishing the lamps so that the only light was coming from the moon outside. Katara snuggled closer to him as she told him about the colonies she'd visited and some of the people she spoke with. She talked about studying Fire Nation politics with Hau, Yina and some of the other exiles, how she was considering studying with Kuei, and of course she'd talked extensively with her father. He lazily stroked her hair as she talked, and it was all very comforting, and by the end of recounting her adventures, such as they were, she found herself yawning.

"I didn't take you for the scholarly type," Zuko said, stifling a yawn of his own.

"Well…" Katara hesitated, not sure what she should say. In truth, there was a very concrete reason that she was trying to be more interested in politics, and it didn't always have much to do with the rebellion. In the end, she only shrugged.

When they ran out of things to say, they let the silence sit between them, and neither felt the pressure to fill it with empty words or idle chatter. Sleep weighted heavily on them and they drifted off. It wasn't the most restful sleep, if only because her mind wouldn't settle down, and she couldn't get over the fact that they were sleeping in the same bed, that he'd kissed her shoulder and her neck and whispered goodnight, that he was holding her closely, and a little part of her mind whispered that this was the way things were meant to be between them. They'd danced around it for so long, and finally giving in just felt _so good_. Several times during the night, she felt the bed shift behind her, and after the fourth time, she rolled over, ready to fuss at him for moving around so much.

"Sorry," he said, with a knowing smile. "I'm restless."

She held her arms open to him, and he straddled her, brushing her hair away from her face as she rubbed her eyes. Katara couldn't fight a smile as he kissed her forehead, then her cheeks, and when he finally kissed her lips, she wrapped her legs around him to keep him from pulling away. Zuko chuckled as he tried to pull her closer, and Katara could feel her heart racing as what little space between them quickly disappeared. Their kiss became rough and passionate, and several thoughts flew through Katara's mind as she tightened her leg around his waist and Zuko grunted, his hand hot against her thigh. It was delightful and naughty, and she was roomed right next to Sokka and Suki, but she could feel the heat on his _tongue_ , and as she wrapped her fingers in his hair, their breath coming in ragged gasps between kisses, Katara knew that she would give all of herself to him. It was impulsive. It was delightful. It was scary.

"Three days meditating in a hot cave puts things in perspective," Zuko whispered, his mouth against her neck. "All my life, I've needed balance. I finally found it with you."

When he pulled away, Zuko was panting, but there was such warmth and tenderness in his smile. They did complement each other, and more and more Katara found herself seeking Zuko out whenever she had news to share. More and more, she found that she was disappointed when the person nearest to her wasn't him. No doubt it hadn't gone unnoticed, either.

"We make a good team, don't we?" She closed her eyes, needing to think clearly. "I…can I tell you a secret?"

"Always."

Katara licked her lips, feeling supremely unsure of herself and hating the doubt that was trying to creep into her mind. "The real reason I've been studying politics… I guess…" She shrugged. "I mean, I know that because of who we are, we'll always be involved in politics in one way or another, but… It's just that, I know we haven't had a lot of time to really figure out where you and I are going, but I think I'm hoping one day I'll have to know these things. That it'll be part of my job."

Zuko smiled and kissed her cheek. "Of course you…"

What she was trying to say slowly dawned on him, and Katara watched Zuko's face closely, ready for the slightest hint of rejection, the slightest twitch that said he wasn't as serious as she was. Slowly, he untangled himself and sat next to her, staring at his hands in his lap.

"I can't be casual with you," she blurted, sitting up and tugging at her hair. "The moment I heard your voice, I…I felt…" She sighed.

"Thinking about the future is scary," Zuko said slowly. "The road ahead of us isn't easy. In that cave, I saw…visions? Possibilities?" He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "What I have to do will not be easy, and there is a chance… I fought him once, and things didn't work out so well for me, but I've changed, and I like to think I've gotten stronger, but… I've seen a future where things might not work in my favor."

Katara's heart broke, listening to him talk about the thing they'd all tried hard to ignore. He took a shuddering breath, and Katara threw her arms around him, hugging him as tightly as she could. He pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled her.

"For a while, I wanted to push you away so that I could protect you, but… I can't be casual with you, either," he said. "I want you by my side, no matter what happens."

Gently, he cupped her cheek, and his lips barely grazed hers, but there was no way to keep her heart from soaring into the clouds. She didn't think their kisses could be any more passionate, but the kisses they shared then made her question what they'd shared earlier, because _this_ was passion. This was need and lust and she dared to let herself believe that it was love, because the things he did to her, the way he made her feel couldn't be anything but love. An hour later, they finally drifted to sleep, naked and satisfied, and they didn't wake until around sunrise, when Zuko shook her. Groaning, Katara tried to hide under the pillow, but he only shook her harder, pulling the pillow away.

"Katara, wake up," he said, lifting her. "You'll miss it."

Opening one eye, Katara looked at the shaking bundle in Zuko's lap. Groggily, she stretched her arms, not missing the way he watched her, and maybe she exaggerated her movements just a little. Snuggling up against him, Katara reached a hand out to touch the egg as a piece of shell flaked away.

"We can't touch it," Zuko said, grabbing her hand. "The Sun Warriors said that we're not supposed to help."

So they sat in anxious, excited silence as bits of the shell fell away, and finally, a tiny red head poked out. Katara squealed as the little head rested before chipping away at more of the shell. Beside her, Zuko was practically vibrating, fighting the urge to help the dragon as it broke enough of the shell to free its delicate wings, then its legs. It gave the tiniest little croak, its long neck raised toward Zuko before moving on weak, shaky legs and finally clearing the shell.

"Agni above," Zuko whispered as he gently touched the little creature curled in his lap.

Katara laid her head on Zuko's shoulder, supremely glad that he chose to share this moment with her. He tightened his arm around her as he inspected the wings and the little horns and tiny red claws. The dragon croaked at him and Zuko smiled, saying he couldn't believe that this was real. 109 years after the last dragon was killed, a new one was born, and Katara couldn't imagine a better companion for the little creature.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" she asked. "Have you thought of any names? What do we feed it?"

"You're such a mother," Zuko said with a light laugh. "We can grab the books a little later. They should tell us most of what we need to know."

They sat in silence, watching the dragon sleep for a bit, each lost in their own thoughts. With a contented sigh, Zuko dropped the shell and blanket to the floor, then maneuvered all of them so that they were laying down, the dragon curled up on his fire chakra, halfway covering his lightning scar.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," Katara said, settling down for what she hoped to be a nice, deep, uninterrupted sleep.

"There's no one else I could imagine sharing this with."


	8. Coronation

Zuko stood on the balcony overlooking the bustling streets of the Fire Nation colony. A group of people went past, laughing and carrying baskets of flowers, and then a short time later, a cart rolled by, carrying ornate lanterns. Everyone was laughing and smiling, their moods light. As theirs should be. As his should be. Zuko wiped his palms on his pant leg. When had he started shaking? Taking a calming breath, Zuko ran through the preparations again, mentally checking that they'd put enough soldiers on duty, that they'd established a secure perimeter along the coast. All the right foods were prepared. The gifts were bought and laid out. The decorations had arrived in just the _right_ shade of blue and red and white and gold, the purple had been blended to their _exact_ specifications. The schedule had been set and reviewed, and everyone knew their cues. Offerings were made to gods and ancestors, signs were consulted and the best possible day was chosen.

"Son?"

He started, hand going for his sword before he remembered that he wasn't wearing it. That he shouldn't have to be wearing a sword on his wedding day, unless it was ceremonial. But there was what should be, and what actually _was_.

"Son…"

Hakoda smiled softly as he walked out onto the balcony, arms open, and Zuko didn't even pretend that he wasn't in need of comforting just then. Hakoda held him tightly, and Zuko tried to siphon a little of his strength.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Since before sunrise," Zuko said, reluctantly letting go of Hakoda.

"Have you actually tried to go back to sleep?"

Zuko shrugged, looking out over the street so he wouldn't see Hakoda frowning at him, even though he could feel it. That was one thing he'd always assumed Katara inherited from her mother, right until the time that both of them frowned so hard at him that Toph could feel it. Hakoda sighed, then leaned on the railing next to him, and the two stood in silence for a while, enjoying the peace of the early morning. For the past two years, the war had been in a stalemate, neither side attacking in force, and as the days stretched out, Zuko was worried that Ozai was planning something big and devastating. Iroh had been adamant that they take advantage of the silence from the mainland; little by little, they made their way toward the colonies closer to the Fire Nation, doing their best to set up a court and establish his rule as a Fire Lord. It worked, more or less. By the time they got to Sheyran city, a colony on the northeastern coast of the Earth Kingdom, Zuko was finally starting to feel like a ruler. The people supported the revolution, and had even given Zuko the house the Fire Nation governor used to occupy before they'd run him out of town. Zuko frowned. He couldn't imagine that, in two years, news that his rebel son set up an opposing court in the colonies hadn't reached Ozai.

"I'm scared," Zuko whispered.

"I am, too. We can plan for so many things, safeguard against the normal attacks, do our best to protect people. But when Ozai hears about this? There's no telling just how badly he'll react. And make no mistake, as terrible as this war has been, Ozai can and probably will make it a lot worse. We just have to be ready."

"For what?"

"Anything. As unhelpful as that is."

Zuko found himself smiling a little. Hakoda was right; that was unhelpful. They were always ready for anything, but the anything that Ozai would throw at them after hearing about this wedding would be markedly different from the anything they'd dealt with before.

"How do you know I was talking about my father?"

Hakoda laughed, slapping Zuko hard on the back. "Son, I don't think there's a person on this planet who would think that you were scared of marrying Katara.

We practically have to pry the two of you apart. You're almost as bad as Sokka and Suki. It took the two of you long enough to get around to it, though."

"We knew, even if we didn't want to say it right away," Zuko said, feeling a little lighter. A little more at ease. "It's just…everything that surrounds a relationship between us. We had to be _sure_ , you know?"

"Believe me, I know." Hakoda beckoned for him to come back inside. "Even so, I'm glad you did. I don't think my little girl has ever been happier. And _you_. Eleven years I've known you, and you've never smiled more than you have in the past few years. I doubt you've smiled this much in your whole life."

Zuko laughed long and hard. It wasn't even that funny, but it felt good to laugh, to let all of his anxiety and fear bleed out in a joyous sound. To have Hakoda standing next to him, smiling and proud, to be surrounded by people who thought that he was right and just and _worthy_. It felt good to know that, by the end of the day, he'd be married to the person he loved more than life itself.

"Sleep, son," Hakoda said, as he headed toward the door. "Meditate before the ceremony. Clear your head. You never want to forget your wedding."

Hakoda spoke so softly that Zuko almost missed his last words as he closed the door.

 _I've never forgotten mine._

* * *

There was no way that Zuko would ever be able to forget this day.

The whole town turned out for the wedding, people lining the streets to the town square where a raised platform had been set up, honored guests sitting in chairs before it. The day was perfectly sunny; large, fluffy clouds drifted lazily over them as birds flew past, chirping as they went. People chatted excitedly, complimenting the decorations, in awe at the splendor that was laid out, wondering what foods would be served, greeting old friends, making new ones. It was like a fairy tale. Everything felt like a dream.

Six fire sages moved up the street, spreading incense and saying a prayer to Agni, asking for a blessing for this day and their union, and when they reached the platform, they stood to the side as the Fire Nation procession made its way down the street. Zuko's household went first, Chief Secretary Hau and Mistress Yina at the head, followed by a few of his councilors. Toph had actually worn a dress, had allowed them to do her hair for the wedding, and Zuko's heart twisted a bit, seeing the beautiful young woman she was becoming. Even she looked happy that this was finally happening. The spectators tossed out red and gold flowers as Iroh made his way down the street, the biggest smile on his face. Everything had come together perfectly, the wind swirling the petals, and Zuko took a deep breath of the fragrant air, hoping to calm his nerves. Or at least stop shaking. The last thing he wanted to do was pass out at his own wedding, before the ceremony even got under way. Beside him, Druk snorted, rubbing his head on Zuko's side, and Zuko held onto his dragon tightly.

Druk had grown exponentially in two years, too big now to fit inside any of the buildings, though that didn't stop him from trying from time to time. He was young, energetic and wild, often getting into trouble and harassing the livestock on the farms at the edge of the settlement. Many times when Zuko went to complain to his uncle about what a handful his adolescent dragon was, Iroh would laugh, saying that at least Zuko was ready for parenthood before giving him advice about stubborn teenagers. Still, Druk had always been a constant companion, and Zuko thought he finally understood just how Aang felt about Appa. Druk blew steam in Zuko's face, and Zuko returned the gesture, smiling. He should be happy. He was marrying his best friend and an amazing woman. Katara would be by his side for the rest of his life. When his foot hit the flower covered path, Zuko felt strong and _sure_ , his steps steady and firm. People cheered for him as he made his way to the platform, and it felt good.

Finally, Zuko was sure of the person he'd become and the path that he was on, and as he watched as his family from the South made their way down the street, Gran Gran and Pakku at the head, resplendent in blue and white, he knew he could best whatever Ozai threw at them. Everyone was smiling, though Suki wiped a tear away as she, Sokka and their toddler son made their way toward him. Even Sokka looked a little choked up, and Zuko felt the excitement building in him. After Sokka and Suki would be Hakoda, escorting Katara, and even the short wait felt too long as the red and yellow flowers mixed with blue and white, and finally, _finally_ , there they were. Hakoda had the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen by his side. Her dress was the same light blue that her family wore, but long and flowing, her hair half pinned up and half flowing over her bare shoulders.

Zuko inhaled sharply, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. Eleven years after he first met her, eleven years after he'd crashed his ship into her home, intent on razing the settlement to get to the Avatar, eleven years after he first begged for forgiveness and helped her hunt her mother's killer, after sharing secrets and joys and comforting each other through tragedy and supporting each other through triumph, he was marrying Katara. Hakoda placed her hand in his, and her smile was brilliant, and there were people talking around him, but all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and never let her go.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

She giggled and smiled, using the end of her sleeve to wipe away a few tears.

"And this union will mark a shift in the Fire Nation," the elder sage was saying. "Others will look at this marriage and say that water will weaken fire, but let the success of this fight against injustice be a testament of the opposite!" A roar went up among the crowd and the sage waited for the noise to die down. "Let this be proof that fire and water compliment and make each other stronger, that we are _all_ stronger together! Let this union be proof that there can be peace among the world."

Zuko forced himself to look out at the faces and the mix of colors gathered, the joy and the pride of people who finally found the courage to stand up against a corrupt Fire Nation. They shouted and tossed flower petals and confetti, and in his mind, Zuko saw the world as it could be, free of global conflict, with people actually working together to create something _good_.

"Let us witness this union," the sage continued, coming to stand behind them.

They were first married in the Earth Kingdom way, Kuei stepping forward, more sure of himself than he'd been at Sokka and Suki's wedding, saying words of blessing as he ringed them with flowers, then draped a ribbon over their shoulders. Iroh reprised his role, this time with a few people in traditional Air Nomad clothes behind him, people who'd agreed to keep the Air Nomad beliefs alive even though they weren't benders. They said traditional blessings, using fans to cover them with the Winds of Life. The Water Tribe elders came next, giving them a dagger to hold and wrapping a length of leather around their hands. Finally, the elder sage stepped forward, holding up his hands for silence. A little nervousness seeped into Zuko's stomach, and he was glad for Katara by his side. She squeezed his hand, knowing what would come next, knowing that this, if nothing else, would get a reaction from the Fire Nation and Ozai.

"Traditionally, when the Fire Lord marries, his wife is asked to set aside her older self and swear an oath of fealty to the Fire Nation as she is crowned Fire Lady. It is, however, time to do things a little differently."

Zuko and Katara knelt before the crowd in a practiced movement that kept their hands joined and the Earth Kingdom ribbon around their shoulders.

"Fire Lord Zuko and Lady Katara have worked to bring peace to the world, and so it is their wish that they swear an oath of fealty not just to the Fire Nation, but to _all_ the nations."

They repeated the words after the sage, vowing to fight for global prosperity, to not shut out one nation or another, to never turn their backs on those who need help. They promised that they wouldn't forget those who helped in the war or the lessons that they learned. Finally, they promised that their union would always be a reminder that they are all stronger together than they are apart. They remained kneeling when the oath was done and the Fire Sage removed the crown prince's crown that Zuko had worn since the first year of the rebellion. Zuko swallowed thickly, his head feeling weird with the weight removed, his heart racing as he heard the gasps of the gathered.

"The old crowns carry the weight of too many wrongs, and with these new vows of unity, love and peace, Fire Lord Zuko thought it fitting that the crown be forged anew. Let Agni above witness this symbol of the rebirth of the Fire Nation. Let Agni above send down his cleansing fire and let us all be reborn! I crown you Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara!"

Zuko desperately wanted to believe that deafening cheer was for them and for their promise and the hope they brought to the world. He wanted to believe that the cheer was for him and Katara together and everything their love meant. He banished all doubt from his mind as Druk roared behind them, sending up a great burst of flame.

"Rise," the sage shouted, hands raised toward the sky.

They stood as one, and Zuko turned to his wife, his breath catching as he saw her with the golden crown in her hair, the tips of the flames adorned with blue sapphires. Tears were streaming down her face, and he didn't even realize he was crying until she wiped away a few of his own tears, and Iroh was beside him, furiously whispering "kiss your wife, nephew," and Katara wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him with all her strength.

It was the sweetest kiss he'd ever had.

* * *

Fury churned in the pit of Ozai's stomach as he looked at the scorched paper in front of him. Nothing he read in the report was pleasing. This was pathetic. He'd defeated that worthless excuse for an Avatar, had so summarily destroyed him that there was almost nothing left of that petulant child. And yet, this war had _continued_ for eleven years. _Eleven years_.

"They should have given up long ago," Ozai said to the charred, crumbling bodies on the floor in front of his desk. "This farce… And now he dares to set up court? To name himself Fire Lord? To crown a _Fire Lady_?"

The wall scones flared as he slammed his hands on the desk. He balled up the offending report and finished burning it. As if crowning himself Fire Lord wasn't enough, as if crowning his own Fire Lady wasn't enough, he'd dared to marry a waterbender and claim that she made him stronger. Fool boy.

"I should have smothered you in your sleep when I had the chance," Ozai grumbled as he exited his office.

Servants scurried out of his way, dropping to their knees and pressing their heads to the ground as he moved past them, shakily whispering "my lord," or "your majesty". This was the way a nation was meant to be run. People should have a healthy fear of their lord so they don't get out of line. Insubordination should be punished, swiftly and harshly.

"Clean my office," he barked at a man polishing one of the statues. The man nodded and ran past, leaving the statue only half shiny.

Ozai looked at himself in the breastplate of warriors past. There was more gray in his hair, and dark circles under his eyes. He looked like an old man. People thought he couldn't hear them whispering about him, but he heard everything. His spies were everywhere, reported everything to him. He knew that some of his advisors were worried he was becoming more unhinged as the war dragged on, worried that he was excessively cruel, his punishments harsh to the point that they were having trouble finding people willing to serve him. It didn't matter. None of those soft bellied cretins understood what it took to win a war against such a persistent weed. He would have to do this thing himself, go to the Earth Kingdom and rip that boy's heart from his chest, make him watch his own heart die for as long as his consciousness remained. But first, he would make that boy watch everyone he loved be tortured, starting with his treacherous, disgusting uncle and ending with that peasant waterbending bitch of a wife he took. He would make that disgrace of a son watch as everyone he cared about _begged_ to be burned alive just to escape the pain, and not even when their voices were gone, their throats raw and bloody, would he show them mercy. Banishing that waste of seed was the last mercy he'd shown anyone.

There was only one way that Agni's greatest joke would ever take the Fire Nation from him, and Ozai wasn't about to die any time soon.


	9. Clear Lines

Two years of calm were followed by two years of vicious, all out war. The world couldn't take much more of this brutality, but Ozai was making it near impossible to get closer to the Fire Nation.

"Do not let this discourage you, nephew," Iroh said.

Even he was unable to keep the pain and sadness out of his voice as they watched soldiers go about their grim task. There were forty of them, this time. Forty bodies burned beyond recognition, each impaled on wooden stakes, planted along the edge of the settlement. Anger burned in the pit of Zuko's stomach; Ozai had never reacted like this before. No matter how big his loss, no matter how devastating, Ozai had never been so mockingly cruel. Not until he'd named Katara his Fire Lady. But he _would not_ feel guilty about doing that. He couldn't.

"Do we have any way of identifying them?" Toph asked.

One of the soldiers gave a quiet "no" that was almost lost on the wind. Zuko took a shaky breath, but refused to look away. Their losses recently had been devastating, and he felt like it was his duty to witness the consequences of those losses, to see the pain on the soldiers' faces and do everything in his power to keep them from having to cut down the desecrated bodies of their friends. But they would not stoop to Ozai's level. There was a way to beat him without sacrificing their morals. Soldiers were not toys, they were not playthings that could be broken and replaced. These were real human _lives_ that Ozai had just destroyed. They had families who would mourn them, families who loved them. They couldn't let this continue.

"The council wants to take a vote today," Zuko said.

"I got the notice," Toph said as she absently bent a piece of metal from her armor. "Ozai is clearly trying to provoke us, and they're letting it work. If we go to the capitol now, we're all dead. They need to be smarter about this."

"They are scared." Iroh sighed heavily. "Even I didn't expect this from my brother."

They stood in silence as the soldiers finished their work, wrapping each body in a white cloth, and when the bodies were laid out, everyone bowed, saying their own silent prayers. They kept their vigil as the fallen were loaded on wagons to be prepped for a proper funeral. They did need to get to Ozai quickly, but the irony wasn't lost on Zuko, and he didn't have any doubt that someone would bring up this odd role reversal during the day's council meeting. Many years ago, he'd been part of a push for more aggressive tactics, telling the council that they wouldn't win this war by being defensive. And now, here he was, saying the opposite. They needed to take their time and be careful about the way they approached the capitol, not just shove their way to the heart of the Fire Nation. Some council members might use this to discredit him, and he needed to be ready. He wished that Sokka would be there. Sokka would know how to fight them.

"I worry that they're losing faith in me," Zuko said quietly as they headed back home. "What kind of leader am I if I can't protect them from…that."

"Some people question the course of the river when it flows over the pile of rocks, rather than going around it," Iroh said. "They do not stop to consider that this is the shorter path to the ocean. They look only for the easiest."

"Besides," Toph chimed in, "they're used to winning, and these past months have been hard. We need to give them a decisive victory."

"I wish I could have your confidence," Zuko grumbled.

"Sokka's not here, so one of us has to do it, and it's definitely not going to be you, Sparky."

"And now that you're smiling again, nephew, tell me, how is your lovely wife doing?" Iroh asked.

Zuko felt a bigger smile tug at the corner of his mouth, and he bit his cheek to stop it from showing, hanging his head down so that no one would misinterpret this happiness.

"She's good," he said. "I felt the baby move."

This was the one bright spot in his life, and one of the bigger reasons they hadn't pushed for the capitol as hard. Amidst the fighting and the death and Ozai's brutality, there was life. And this life, they'd created together, and he couldn't be more excited, more anxious for its arrival. It was silly and cheesy, but when they'd found out she was pregnant, he and Katara bought a single pair of newborn socks. She kept one sock and he kept the other, and for them, this was a reminder of everything they were fighting to protect. It was their talisman against dark thoughts, because if he was Fire Lord and Katara his Fire Lady, then this child would be their heir, and there would be a clear line of succession for the throne. Something Ozai was distinctly lacking. If word ever got back to Ozai that Katara was pregnant, no one doubted that he would bring the entire force of the Fire Nation army down on them, just to snuff out this one, tiny life. Over the past few months, Zuko spent many sleepless nights looking at that tiny sock and thinking increasingly irrational thoughts about flying on Druk to the capitol and killing Ozai in his sleep.

Sixteen year old him would have flown to the capitol, challenged Ozai and died. At twenty-nine, he couldn't afford to make such brash decisions. Not that Druk would have let him, anyway. The dragon had barely left Katara's side, fiercely protecting her from anyone who got too close.

"Do you know when the others are coming?" Toph asked. "Or have you not found a way to pass along your news?"

The downside to trying to keep information away from Ozai was that they had a harder time communicating with each other. As much as they'd wanted to stay together, the war had raged on for thirteen years more than they'd expected; it was a hard decision to make, but the South couldn't be without leadership for that long. So, Hakoda, Sokka, Suki, Gran and Pakku all returned, which turned out to be a good thing, as they were finding more and more Fire Navy ships drifting into southern waters. Suki's last report had even indicated that there was a fleet anchored as far south as Whale Tail Island, maybe thinking to cut them off from resistance forces stationed in the Earth Kingdom. This news was too important to trust to any kind of messenger hawk; they had proof that Ozai had intercepted some of their communications before. In the end, he and Katara decided that this would be one hell of a surprise when they finally met up.

"We do need discuss an end to this," Iroh said. "Perhaps they will find out, then."

"And we should probably do that really soon," Toph said, playfully punching Zuko in the shoulder as she left them in front of the estate. "I'll send over some of my metalbenders to guard you guys."

"Toph, I said—"

"Don't care what you said," Toph yelled, waving as she walked down the street.

"Let's go see that lovely wife of yours," Iroh said with a laugh.

It was probably for the best that Toph was sending some of her metalbenders to guard them. Zuko had been determined that he and Katara could guard themselves. He didn't want people seeing them with a guard and thinking that the war might be getting the best of them. But he was tired, and he desperately needed his mind to be free to focus on planning an exit strategy. And as their child grew, there would be no way to hide. It might hurt to admit it, but they were likely surrounded by spies, and Ozai would find out, one way or another. Armed guards might not be a bad thing.

As they rounded the corner to the tiny garden out back, Zuko could hear Katara humming a southern lullaby. Sweet Southern Maiden, she'd said it was called. She was leaning back against Druk as he rested, maps spread out on the grass in front of her. She was beautiful. Radiant. Her crown caught the weak rays of the sun, making the gold and the sapphires glow every time she moved her head. It almost looked like she was crowned with living fire. Zuko felt his heart tighten as she stopped moving for a few seconds, as if she was listening to something, then place her hand on the slight curve of her stomach. She'd taken to belting her tunics just under her bust to make room for the baby. Several merchants and well meaning people tried to tell her that she would be more comfortable in a loose fitting dress, but Katara would always smile and say that for their next baby, after the war is done, she'd consider wearing a dress. So, she'd ordered pants with a looser waist, and some simple shirts, and let out the holster for her tanto knives, and Zuko thought this look suited her more than anything else would.

"Ahh, my lovely niece," Iroh said, going to her as Druk lazily opened an eye. "You grow more radiant every day. Pretty soon we can do away with the sun and bask in your brilliance alone."

"Iroh, please," Katara said with a laugh.

Zuko hung back, just watching her and loving her and every move she made. Everything felt so _right_. Even though they were still caught in a war, and he knew that, in the near future, he would have to make the decision that Aang couldn't, even though he knew that they weren't able to share this happiness with half of their family, even though he knew the fate of the world was still resting on their shoulders, this moment felt _right_.

Katara turned and looked at him, her face shifting and softening. Iroh was wrong; she was already more brilliant than the sun, and he'd been basking in her glow for years. She tilted her head to the side and smiled softly at him, and Zuko felt like a lovesick boy all over again.

* * *

It was hard to tell just when Ozai found out, but he'd reacted exactly as they'd expected him to react.

Katara paced nervously in the underground cavern, rubbing her stomach and asking the baby to hold on just a little longer. As eager as she was to meet their little pup, there was a good chance they'd have to move again, but they wouldn't be able to do that if she was going into labor. She stopped pacing as something exploded overhead and the ground shook, little bits of dirt and rock raining down on her. She frowned. Months on end, they'd been dealing with this.

"A little longer, pup," she said, going to the table and grabbing her water skins as the ground shook again.

When she and Zuko first mentioned marriage, Suki had warned her that sitting out of the fight when she was pregnant would be harder than the actual labor, and Katara had smiled, never believing that this would be true. She'd held onto that until Ozai began directly attacking Sheyran, forcing them to evacuate the city and pull back further into the Earth Kingdom. They'd fought hard to stay; Sheyran was the perfect launching point to get them to the Fire Nation. Yet, as her pregnancy progressed, they'd been forced to pull back. It was one of the hardest decisions she'd had to make, but she couldn't risk their baby. Still, Ozai pursued them. No matter how far back they pulled, Ozai followed them.

"Your majesty—"

Another blast shook the cavern, and a great chunk of rock came loose from the wall. Katara's instincts were telling her to duck and roll out of the way as she put up an ice wall to shield her in case the boulder fractured. Her body, however, would be doing none of those things. She threw up an ice wall as some of her guards surrounded her with metal and others knocked the rocks out of the way. Katara took a deep breath as another contraction hit her, angry tears burning in the corner of her eyes. Of all the times she had to be alone in a cave underground… When she got her hands on Ozai, she would do more than make him give up his crown.

"Lady Katara, are you alright?" One of the soldiers asked, coming toward her.

"Get my grandmother," Katara said, feeling exhausted and angry, leaning against the wall of the cavern. "And someone check on the fight. If we need to move, we need to move now."

The waiting was probably the worst. She paced, knowing that pacing was only going to get her more riled up, and when the next contraction hit, Katara leaned against the wall again, resting her forehead against the cool stone. They were getting closer together.

"Is it time?" Kanna asked, trotting over to her. "Are they still out there?"

Katara nodded as her grandmother coached her through the pain.

"Am I insane for wanting to be out there even though I'm in labor?"

"Yes," Kanna answered before the sentence was even finished.

Kanna issued orders, sending people running for cool water and towels as she led Katara back to the birthing room. They didn't get far before the rock started to vibrate with a familiar roar, and Katara felt her body go slack with relief as Zuko came running down the corridor, Sokka, Toph and Suki right behind him. That relief drained away when they stepped into the light. They were covered in blood. She waddled over to them, bending the blood away from them, looking for injuries.

"Back off, Sugar Queen," Toph said, trying to duck away from Katara. "We're fine. We're fine!"

"Where are the others?"

"They're cleaning up," Sokka said. "Relax, sis. We won. Gave Ozai a thorough beating. I don't think they expected Druk to be that good in a fight."

Another contraction hit her while she was trying to check Zuko, this one stronger than the others, and it made her knees buckle. Even as the pain shot up her spine, Katara felt a deep pang of jealousy. What she wouldn't have given to see those faces as Zuko soared above them on a _dragon_ , crown blazing in the sun, a ruler fighting alongside his people rather than hiding behind a wall of flame, hundreds of miles away like a coward.

"Are we having a baby?" Zuko asked excitedly, gently massaging her back with heated hands.

"Not for quite a while," Kanna said, leading everyone to the birthing room. "So get comfortable. And you, get back."

Kanna shooed Druk, who was trying to squeeze into the room, and Katara smiled. They'd feared assassination less only because Druk had been so protective of her, only leaving her side to fight with Zuko. Another contraction hit, and Druk tried to squeeze past Kanna, blowing steam at her. She whacked him on the nose with a rolled up towel.

"Tell me how it went," Katara said, trying to distract herself.

Zuko rested his hand on her stomach as he told her about the battle, how Ozai's soldiers threw down their weapons, some of them shaking as he flew Druk overhead. They refused to attack a dragon, the ancestral symbol of strength and power in the Fire Nation. Some obviously feared Ozai more, and those had turned on their comrades, fighting fiercely against everyone, spewing curses like fire. They hadn't called a retreat until there was barely one company of them left, and there were more deserters than they'd seen before. Hakoda and Iroh had taken a few of their own soldiers and went scouting to make sure they were actually deserting and not waiting to ambush. He assured her that the situation was under control, but that it would have been more fun if she was there. Then he made her promise to rest while he got cleaned up, and Katara tried, but it was hard to rest when it felt like someone was trying to carve out your spine.

When Zuko came back, he fussed at her and tried to get her back in bed, but her grandmother had been right—it would be a long time before she was ready to push. So she made Zuko walk with her and rub her back, and Druk followed behind him, blowing gentle breaths of steam on her when her contractions hit. She debriefed her family and some soldiers on the battle and the state of Ozai's forces. She talked with her father and Iroh about the deserters and thoroughly ignored them when they tried to get her back to bed. She took a nap, curled up with Zuko and Druk, and when the contractions were too painful for her to be still, she paced the cavern, looking at maps and talking with the others about how to move forward if they couldn't launch their fleet from Sheyran. She was a warrior and she was a queen, and even the pain of labor wouldn't change that. She only slept when there was nothing left to do but wait.

"Zuko?" Underground, it was hard to tell how much time had passed.

He wasn't usually a heavy sleeper, but she had to shake him roughly several times before she could rouse him. He blinked at her slowly, but when the worst contraction hit and she dug her fingers into his shoulder, fighting to hold back a scream, his eyes flew open, and he barely stopped himself from falling out of the bed. She couldn't focus her mind enough to bend her sweat into ice, and even if she could, she doubted it would work. It felt like she was boiling from the inside out. When one contraction rolled right into the next, Katara couldn't hold back the scream, and if Zuko wasn't awake before, he was then, and he tripped over several things as he ran from the room, shouting for Kanna. Focusing on her breathing, she laid her head down and draped her arm over her eyes.

"Katara?"

Startled, she lifted her arm slightly to see her husband standing in the makeshift doorway, the biggest smile she'd ever seen on his face.

"I love you."

He didn't wait for an answer, just disappearing around the corner. Hours later, they had their little pup, a tiny bundle with a few wisps of curly brown hair and deep golden eyes. The sages had come and blessed their daughter, and she'd been passed from family member to family member, and even Toph held her and said it wasn't so bad when the baby grabbed her finger. Even Druk poked his head in to make his greeting, covering the baby in steam.

Katara hummed as she held their baby, her head resting on Zuko's shoulder, his arm firm around her waist. In the coming days, they'd have two official naming ceremonies and a coronation, the sages formally acknowledging her as Crown _Princess_ of the Fire Nation, another thing the nation hadn't had in well over 100 years. Katara couldn't help the smirk.

"What?" Zuko asked, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Ozai's going to _flip_."


	10. FatherSon

An early morning fog hung around the Fire Nation encampment deep in the jungle on the creatively named Fire Fountain Island. The soldiers chatted amongst themselves as they ate, their tight stances and searching eyes at odds with seemingly jovial mood of the company. Zuko hunkered down in the thick foliage, taking deep breaths and focusing his mind as he waited for the scout to come back with her report. He'd tried to get a count on his own, but he really needed to be high up to see everything. At least he could see an insignia; they were the Sparrows. Light infantry. Lots of archers. They'd been flexing their muscle at the people of Fire Fountain City for quite some time, and the rebellion had come to put an end to it. Finally, the scouts returned.

"Sparrows," she said. "About forty of them here. Twenty more stationed around the city itself."

"Can we do it?"

"Well enough."

Zuko nodded. They would be outnumbered, but they had a tactical advantage; even though they were alert, it didn't look like the Fire Nation soldiers had discovered the rebels yet. They could do it. He signaled to his soldiers and they fanned out, the scouts sending out the owlcat hoot, and Zuko watched the other side of the clearing as if he expected to see Sokka and his soldiers falling into place. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and loosened his dao in their scabbard. When the third owlcat hoot sounded, they attacked.

The Sparrows were highly trained, but when the forest came alive, icicles shooting from between the leaves, immediately downing several of their soldiers, they were thrown into panic. Sparrows with bowls hastily dropped them, reaching for their weapons only to be cut down before they could draw their swords. The rebels moved as quickly as they could to take advantage of the surprise; it would only be a few seconds before the Sparrows were able to reorganize, and in that time, the rebellion would need to do as much damage as possible. Commands were shouted, and the Sparrows toward the center of the camp moved with unison, weapons drawn and fire ready, trying to rescue their comrades.

Zuko emptied his mind and focused on the battle, relishing the way the rest of the world slipped away as he ducked a blast of fire and swung at a soldier's knees. They went down, only to be replaced by two others, and Zuko met them both, kicking one in the stomach and blocking the other with his dao. His crown made him a target. Ozai had given strict orders for him to be killed on sight, probably offering some reward for the soldier that brought him the traitor's head, and Zuko tried to use this to his advantage, drawing them closer to the rebel archers, still hidden in the trees. He spun, using the flat of his blade to block a blast of fire before reaching into the pit of his stomach and letting his own fire out in a bright spray. Eyes wide, two of the soldiers dove out of the way, and right into Sokka's sword. Sokka made short work of them as Zuko took care of the others, and neither man could help a smirk as they saluted each other before turning away to rejoin the fight. Zuko took two steps, then stopped short.

There he was.

Across the battlefield, standing in the safety of a half circle of trees, surrounded by soldiers in heavy armor. When he thought of his father, the first image was always a thirteen year old's warped perception of the man who had created him, then burned him. A tall figure bathed in golden fire, his mouth twisted into a weird grin of pure joy, his eye wide with excitement, as fire burned in his palms. Ozai had always seemed large and imposing, a man that loomed above him. Dangerous. Deadly. Now…

His armor was far too shiny, too new to have actually seen any battle; a lone, pristine general surrounded by soldiers bathed in blood. His dark hair was mixed with grey and moved freely in the breeze, unlike Zuko's own, which was covered in blood and filth. Ozai was a man above the battle, someone who never deigned to get his hands dirty, and his crown was polished to a high gloss, brightly reflecting the sun. Too bright for the gory setting, too perfect for the slaughter that surrounded him. But those eyes… Those eyes were the same as his own, and Zuko stared at them, held their gaze, feeling for a moment like he was three, the first time he crossed his father, and those eyes and flashed with rage and fury, the wall scones erupting like volcanoes as Zuko cowered behind a chair that was ripped away and smashed against the wall. That face twisted with rage and _hate_ …

Zuko forced himself to close his eyes, taking deliberate breaths to calm the inferno inside of him, pulling the fire back from his fingertips, painfully aware of the itch and a base desire to visit every hurt, every pain on his tormentor. He opened his eyes and met the gaze of a man who looked old, dark bags under his eyes. Out of touch. An unused sword at his hip. Ozai smirked, inclining his chin in challenge as if he would actually step away from his bodyguards. Zuko took a half step forward.

"Not right now." Sokka's voice was solid, his grip on Zuko's arm strong. "We're going to get that bastard, but we're going to do it in a way that leaves no doubt about who's going to be Fire Lord."

He barely heard Sokka's words, his mind filled with thoughts of all the times Ozai tried to hurt him, of the way Ozai had thrown lighting at his _own son_ on the Day of Black Sun. He couldn't stop the itch in his finger tips, and Zuko shifted, ready to spring across that battlefield and truly show Ozai just what lightning could do. He would show Ozai just what fear was.

"Don't be stupid."

Sokka yanked him back, breaking his eye contact with Ozai, and Zuko realized that they were being surrounded and protected by a few of their soldiers. He was putting everyone's life at risk. Zuko took a step back; he'd learned a lot from his best friend over the years. He trusted Sokka with his life, and he trusted that Sokka wouldn't lead him astray on this, because it would be easy, _so easy_ , to end Ozai's life. But Sokka was right; if he did it now, ran a sword right through him without enough witnesses from both sides, the people wouldn't believe him. They wouldn't fully accept him as their Fire Lord, saying that someone else must have done it, that there was no proof, that there were rules for challenging a Fire Lord. When he finally sat on the throne, he would have enough trouble taking control; he'd only be making things harder for himself if he struck Ozai down right then.

Ozai's grin turned predatory, mocking, and he threw his head back and laughed, mouthing the word "pathetic." He turned and was escorted off the battlefield, his soldiers shielding his back. Slowly, Sokka let go, and nothing was stopping Zuko from going after his father, and the voice of the insecure sixteen year old boy who wanted nothing more than to have his father's approval and see him rot in the depths of the world was far too loud. If he took off, Sokka would follow him. The soldiers would follow him. It would be _so easy_ to end it all.

With a sigh, Zuko turned his back, forcing himself to look at the clearing. Their soldiers had taken care of Ozai's forces, and were clearing up, separating prisoners from the dead, looking after injuries, figuring out if they had any losses. They nodded respectfully whenever they made eye contact with Zuko. He felt tired. Exhausted. Sad.

Empty.

* * *

Zuko sat huddled in a corner his room, his knees to his chest, his head resting against the wall. It was weird to be back in the Fire Nation, to be surrounded by things that were so familiar and yet so foreign to him. He hated that his own nation felt foreign. He'd been away for so long. He took a shaky breath, stubbornly rubbing at his eyes and hating that such a vile creature could still inspire such terrifying rage and anger and confusion in him. After they'd gotten back, he'd immediately run off, deep into the jungle and unleashed his rage on a circle of trees. He'd only calmed when Druk came to him, taking him out of the burned clearing and bringing them back to their house in Fire Fountain City. The moment people looked at him, questions at the tip of their tongues, Zuko had gone off, hidden from everyone, shame making him hang his head as his uncle's words came to him. The Air Nomads practice forgiveness unconditionally, Iroh had said, but you cannot forgive one who does not want to be forgiven. Your pain, your anger is real, and you have every right to feel it.

"Zuko?" There was a soft knock on the door. "Do you mind if we come in?"

If his pain was real and if it was valid, then why did it always make him feel like a fool?

"I guess not."

He hoped that he'd spoken too quietly for them to hear, but the door opened and Hakoda and Iroh stepped into the room. He was hidden in the corner, the bed blocking him from their view, so he watched as they surveyed the damage, waiting for their disappointment. And he waited. And he waited. Hakoda took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, his whole body tense. Behind him, Iroh's shoulders drooped, his sigh heavy. Zuko waited for their disappointment.

"Where are you, son?" Hakoda asked.

If he wanted, he could stay hidden for the rest of his life. Just tucked away in that corner, shaking and terrified of what they might say to him, knowing he was too damn old to be acting this way.

"In the corner," he mumbled. Better to get it over with.

Hakoda and Iroh came over, sitting on each side of him, and the three men sat on the floor, their backs against the wall, not talking. They sat in silence for so long that Zuko was almost ready to beg them to say just how much they hated him. When had he started shaking? Iroh placed his hand on Zuko's head, just like he used to do when he was a little boy, and that hand was steady. Calm.

"Sokka told me what happened," Hakoda said quietly. "I'm proud of you."

Zuko took a deep breath, tears in his eyes again, and he didn't have the willpower to stop them.

"For what?" His voice sounded weird. Childlike. Angry. "Prolonging this war even more? Sixteen years, Hakoda. _Sixteen years._ For Agni's sake, Katara's going to start teaching the Avatar in a few months. Aang would have been… His birthday…"

He gestured vaguely, searching for words to explain the turmoil raging inside of him. He was 32, had a three year old daughter, had crowned himself Fire Lord in direct opposition to Ozai, had crowned Katara his Fire Lady. He actively sought to thwart Ozai at every turn, and had been successful at it, picking up supporters along the way, making powerful allies and working to untie the world.

And still, Ozai had a hold on him.

"There are many paths you could have taken," Iroh said. "We could sit and speculate all evening about what might have happened had you chosen one and not the other, but one truth remains, and you must cling to this, my nephew. You have never forgotten who you are."

"Why does he hate me?"

"Because he's an idiot," Hakoda said through clenched teeth. "He's got no respect for life, and he'll never be a quarter of the man you've become. I don't know that I would have the strength to turn away like you did."

" _Strength_?" Zuko pulled away from them, turned to face them, because he had to see if they were mocking him. " _Strength_? I could have ended everything, right then. One bolt of lightning, and this war would be over."

"Would it? Or would it just bring about a civil war in the Fire Nation and flood the world with a different kind of rebel?"

Zuko rubbed at his eyes, staring at his uncle. "Why can't I forgive myself? For everything."

This was the truth of it, wasn't it? He'd never forgiven himself for all the hurt and pain he'd caused the world. In his anger and desperate need to be loved by a madman, he'd actually found the Avatar and worked to bring him to the Fire Nation to either be slaughtered or imprisoned. It had taken him too long to straighten out his life and by the time he did, it was too late. There wasn't enough time to teach Aang, to really teach him, and because of that, he wasn't ready to fight Ozai. Because Zuko had been a _fool_ , Aang had died and the war had gotten more brutal, and he was still too much of a coward to face his father.

"Do you want to be forgiven?" Iroh asked quietly.

Zuko hung his head. "No. I don't deserve—"

"Oh, enough of this," Hakoda said, frowning and crossing his arms.

Hakoda stood and yanked Zuko up, practically dragging him to the window and making him look out at Fire Fountain City. Outside, as the sun was setting, people were packing up the market, waving and saying goodnight to each other as they went home for the day. Noticeably missing was Ozai's statue; after they liberated the city and tore down the statue, the people repaved the area, and it looked like Ozai's monument to himself had never been there.

"Forgiveness is a complicated thing," Hakoda said, his voice much softer, but still stern. "And I agree with Iroh, it _is_ something you have to want. But this notion that you don't deserve to be forgiven for something you did when you were sixteen? You were a kid, Zuko, and you thought you were doing what was best for your nation and your people. It's not your fault that your father is a piece of shit."

Behind them, Iroh chuckled. "Ozai's sins are not your own, nephew."

"None of this would have been possible without you. You are a _good man_ , and you have proven yourself again and again. You take your time to consider the consequences, you think, you plan. You try to only ask of others what you're willing to do yourself. You were a child when this whole business started. All of you. _This wasn't your war_."

They stood in silence, watching as the last of the people finished closing up their shops, and Iroh came to join them. Zuko sniffled one last time, then wiped away the remnants of his tears.

"Do you regret not killing him?" Iroh asked.

Zuko shook his head. "No, I don't suppose I do. I don't want to kill him at all, but…I…"

He waited for the words to come to him, but he wasn't quite sure just what he wanted to say. He'd thought over this decision for years, and was absolutely sure of the choice he would make.

"You'll never be him," Hakoda said. "Never. You're too much like your uncle."

Iroh laughed, shoving his hands inside his sleeves. "It only took how long, nephew? I finally got him to enjoy a good cup of tea and a nice game of pai sho."

Zuko shrugged and Hakoda put his arm around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. He felt calmer. A little.

"Maybe a cup of tea wouldn't be so bad right now," Zuko said.

"That's the spirit, nephew. We can work on self-forgiveness later."

"Besides, I think Katara and Kya are back." Hakoda opened the door and looked back at them. "Take a look in the mirror, son. That's the best proof I could ever give you t hat you'll never be the despicable man that Ozai is."

Zuko looked in the mirror. He looked tired, and his eyes were kind of red, but he was smiling a little. Hearing Kya's name always made him smile. Iroh always said his face lit up whenever she was mentioned, and Zuko didn't doubt it. She was the light in his life, and the real reason that he didn't kill Ozai right then. She would inherit his crown one day, and he wanted to make the world better for her. She was so bright and happy and pure and untroubled, and he wanted her to stay that way for as long as possible. He watched his smile grow the longer he thought about Kya.

"I did it for her," he told his fathers. "And I'd do it again."

"There's the spirit, son. Now let's get that cup of tea."


	11. Interlude

Katara hummed to herself as she opened the door to the back yard, knowing she'd find her little family there. Through the years, the Fire Nation had grown on her; it was an absolutely beautiful place, with lush gardens and grass almost as soft as carpet. It seemed like nearly every house had a garden out back, often with fruit trees or vegetables growing. Ample shade from the heat of the summers, comfortable places to relax and just feel at peace. Zuko kept assuring her that the capitol was very different from the outer islands, that Ozai probably hadn't been to this island since before Zuko was born despite having sent a statue of himself to be placed in the town square, which was why it was relatively safe for them to be there. Relatively. There was nothing stopping Ozai from razing the island just to get to them, and it scared her more than she'd be willing to admit that he hadn't done it yet. That had to mean he was planning something worse for them, right?

With a shaky breath, Katara stepped out into the yard, closing the door as quietly as she could so that she didn't disturb the scene in front of her. Zuko, Kya and Druk were reclining in the grass, Kya brushing Druk's mane as Zuko ate a moon peach and looked at some documents in front of him, occasionally feeding slices to the three year old. Katara smiled as Zuko's eyes flicked toward her. Her heart stopped for a few seconds when he smiled back.

"Daddy, we fly?" Kya asked, fighting against a yawn.

"Not until you're bigger."

"Duck say I fly."

Zuko paused, moon peach slice halfway to his mouth and gave Kya a stern look, but she was pretending that she didn't see him, suddenly very focused on an imaginary tangle in the dragon's mane.

"Kya."

"He did." She tugged at Druk's mane, but the he only huffed, lazily opening one eye before closing it again. Kya yawned.

"Sleepy?"

"No nap! Fly!"

Kya tried to hang on to Druk as Zuko plucked her out of his hair, fighting another yawn as Zuko cradled her in his arms, gently swaying. Katara felt a fair measure of guilt, wondering if they'd been irresponsible by having her while they were still fighting. Kya had a tendency to cling to them with all of her might, and both she and Zuko wondered if that wasn't because she picked up on the tension sometimes. If part of her knew there was a chance that her parents would leave and never come back. Kya might not fully understand what was going on, the reason for the war, and that it was her father's side of the family they were fighting, but children were perceptive. Sokka said that he'd had to speak with his eldest about the war and why his parents had to leave so often.

"Lay down your head, sweet child, tonight. The winds are blowing cold."

Katara started, completely taken aback as Kya stopped fighting Zuko, even though she still insisted that she wasn't sleepy. Zuko smoothed her hair back, his cheeks bright red.

"The Sweet Southern Maiden weeps tears of ice," he sang, gently rocking Kya. "It's been too long since light."

As Kya reached up, patting her father's scarred cheek, Katara felt that she was intruding on a moment that was meant to stay between father and daughter. A moment she wasn't supposed to have seen.

"And when the winds blow, covering us all in snow, think back to the Maiden's smile. Think of her joy, think of her light, and bring out her smile again."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, pup?"

"I want cake."

"After dinner, sweetheart."

"Now?"

"No, it's naptime."

"Oh."

Zuko hummed the rest of the Southern lullaby, and Kya nestled in the crook of her father's arm, her thumb in her mouth. With a shy smile, Zuko beckoned her over.

"I didn't know you sang to her," Katara whispered, moving Kya's hair out of her mouth. "No wonder she never puts up a fight when you put her down for bed."

"Yeah, well…" He rubbed his head nervously, blushing again.

"You're a great father."

Katara pecked Zuko on the cheek, and he blushed even more. Every time she thought it was impossible to love them more than she already did, Katara found even more room in her heart. Every sacrifice that they'd have to make for Kya would be worth it.


	12. The Return

"She is insufferable!" Katara yelled, throwing her hands in the air as she paced angrily. " _I_ am a master, not her. If I hear 'I already learned this with Pakku' one more time, I swear I'm going to..."

Katara didn't know how to finish that, so she just yelled, bending a ball of ice and throwing it into the wall of Zuko's office. Chunks of plaster fell down as the ball shattered, and Sokka grumbled as he batted away a few shards. Zuko was sitting behind his desk, his arms crossed, looking off into the distance as if he wasn't aware of any of this and Katara felt the dark cloud that had been over them for the past month starting to creep in. Suki shook her head and tried to smile.

"Are you going to tell us that she doesn't sound like you at all?"

"You weren't even there, Suki," Katara said, waving this away.

"It's not like it's hard to imagine! You literally said the _same thing_ when Mistress Yina was teaching you about Fire Nation etiquette!"

Katara huffed and stomped her foot as the corner of Zuko's mouth twitched. He held his arms open to her. Sighing heavily, she went over to him and let him pull her into his lap. He placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder, but it did little to calm her nerves. She tried to focus on one train of thought, but that darker, far more terrifying thing was determined to creep in. She took a deep, shuddering breath, reaching for anger and frustration because those were easier to deal with than the other emotions lurking just under the surface.

"And the thing is," Katara continued, aware that there was no fire behind her rant anymore. "The thing is, she has the _gall_ to think she's better than me. How do you teach someone who thinks they know it all?"

Suki gestured as if Katara had just made her point. Which, technically, she had.

"She's just excited to finally be training with us," Zuko said. "We've known her for ten years, and every year, almost like clockwork, she's asked to come train with us, and we've always told her no."

"I can't train a second Av…"

The dark cloud came over her like a rush, and her voice broke. She couldn't train this girl who was so eager and excited, so full of _life_. She couldn't get attached to someone else only to watch them die. They had a plan in place, something they hoped would work, but if that plan failed, they'd be back to depending on the Avatar. Sure, they had an actual resistance and army that was capable of standing up to the Fire Nation, but in the end, it always came down to the same thing. Children fighting a war they shouldn't have to fight. If their first plan failed… Zuko held her as she sobbed, unable to keep the cloud away any longer. Ever since the letters were sent out, this was the darkness and the pain she'd been trying and failing to keep out of her mind. She would not imagine a world where they lost to Ozai twice. She _would not_ think about what losing to him twice meant. She _would not_.

"Hey, hey, things will be different this time," Sokka said, coming to stand by her. "We're all so much stronger. We're actually _ready_ , this time."

"Are we?"

"I am."

Zuko's voice was strong and firm. It held none of the doubt that she felt in her heart, none of the fear that things wouldn't work out. He stood and held her tightly, kissing the top of her head. She clung to him desperately, listing to his heart beat, steady and strong, feeling the warmth of his inner fire. This wasn't a choice he should have to make.

"I've made my peace with it all, and I'm ready to do whatever I must."

"I can't even imagine how hard this must be for you," Suki whispered.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Katara squeezed Zuko as tightly as she could before she moved away. Toph came in, her face decidedly somber. She closed the door behind her and nodded.

"It's done. The last of the proclamations have been sent out, and the army's ready to leave tonight." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's time to march on the capitol."

* * *

Zuko stood at the head of the ship as the fleet sailed through the Gates of Azulon. Druk swam beside the ship, keeping a lazy pace, but Zuko could feel the tension in his companion, just as he was sure Druk was able to feel the tension inside of him. He waited, half expecting the old feelings to bubble up inside of him again, but he knew they wouldn't. He hadn't felt the insecurity or the shame in so long. He took a deep breath, then let out a little puff of fire. No doubt their ship had been spotted, and reports were being relayed to the capitol.

"Nephew?"

He took a deep breath, holding in that scent that always hung around Iroh. Zuko smiled just a little; he suspected Iroh always kept tea leaves in his pockets for an "emergency."

"Are you going to ask me if I'm ready?"

"No," Iroh said, standing beside him "I'm sure you're tired of the question by now. And before you tell me that you don't need any advice, when have I ever asked if you needed it?"

Zuko chuckled a little, and he turned to look at his uncle one more time before this all ended. Iroh's eyes were a little red and his smile was strained. It looked like he hadn't slept in days, but Zuko couldn't blame him. It was hard to be calm and restful on the final approach. Iroh looked thinner and tired and _old_ , and when Iroh put his hand on Zuko's shoulder, it was gentle. Comforting.

"I have watched you grow, my child," Iroh said, his voice shaking. "I have watched you grow and learn and change into an amazing man. From the moment I first saw you, when you were two and clinging to your mother's dress… The spirits gave me a second chance, and I like to think I did better this time. I…I wanted better for you…"

Iroh's voice cracked and Zuko pulled his father into a strong hug, holding him as if Iroh would float away. Usually, it was Iroh having to comfort a trembling Zuko, but he was glad that he could return the favor.

"This will not be goodbye," Zuko said as the Fire Nation dock came into view.

"He'll fight dirty."

"I'm expecting it. But I've trained with Toph, she fights dirty, too."

"He doesn't have good control over breath of fire, but he likes lightning, so remember your redirection."

"I'll remember."

Slowly, the others started to come on deck, Hakoda holding an unusually somber Kya, and the air around him shifted. Zuko stood tall, his crown gleaming in the early morning sun. All the bells on the dock were ringing, and Zuko scanned the crowd, looking to see if Ozai would greet them, knowing that he wouldn't.

"He doesn't know what you can do," Iroh said, grabbing Zuko's arm roughly. "Use that to your advantage."

"I will."

"His firebending comes from anger, and he'll be furious. You must be calm."

"As calm as the waters of the turtleduck pond."

Katara came to stand next to him, and she slipped her arm around his waist. It felt good to be surrounded by his family. They all looked tired and worn out, but Zuko felt the opposite. He'd spent days in meditation, and he liked to think that everyone else felt so frazzled because they transferred their calmness and strength to him. And he did feel calm. A little tense, still, but ready. He wasn't scared. He wasn't anxious.

He was ready.

"Remember, son," Iroh said, his voice breaking, "remember that his pride is gravely wounded and it will make him fight all the harder. He prefers short, precise bursts. You must be strategic."

"I'm ready."

They were close enough to hear the commotion on the docks as several soldiers moved smaller boats into their path, hoping to prevent them from docking. Every now and then, he could hear the word "dragon" floating to him, and people were trying to get a glimpse of Druk, to see if what the soldiers said was true, or if they'd been mistaken as Ozai kept insisting. Others stood firm, shifting into firebending stances, threatening to set the boats on fire. They'd burn the whole dock before they let this imposter, traitor, heathen, bastard, usurper set foot on their home.

"You must be grounded. Remember your footing."

"I'm ready."

He walked toward Hakoda, and Kya reached out for him. She whimpered as he hugged her.

"Mommy and daddy are going to go away for a bit, ok?"

"No, stay here."

"You're going to stay with Grandpa Hakoda, right?"

"I want mommy!"

Katara smoothed back Kya's hair and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Kya sniffled and tried to cling to both of them, beautiful golden eyes starting to tear up. Katara cooed at her, but Kya wasn't having it.

"We're going to visit family we haven't seen in a very long time, sweetheart," she said, taking off her mother's engagement necklace and handing it to Kya. "Can you take care of this for me? I want to make sure I don't lose it."

"You coming home?"

"Absolutely," Zuko said, squeezing her tightly before handing her back to Hakoda. "Remember, you're in charge while we're gone, ok?"

"Ok."

"Practice being a well behaved princess."

"Ok. You coming home?"

Zuko smiled at her, then looked out at his family. Everyone seemed to have the same question. He smiled at her, this little angle that looked so much like Katara and so much like him. This little life they'd created and loved and protected with everything in him. Everything came down to this moment, and he was ready. He would do what needed to be done. For her. He pulled his favorite hair pin from his pocket and placed it in Kya's tiny hands.

"On my honor, I promise that your mother and I are coming home. Hold onto this stuff for us so we don't lose it, ok?"

"Ok."

"We love you, sweetheart."

They both gave Kya kisses, then returned to the head of the ship.

"Wait!" Kya reached out to the side of the ship. "Bye bye, Duck!"

Hakoda walked her over so she could give the dragon a kiss, and Druk bathed her in steam, the way he'd done when she was first born. Their family stood huddled together, everyone ignoring what was happening on the docks. They'd been waiting for this for so long. They'd sacrificed so much, had been fundamentally changed by this war. The journey had been painful, and had tested their resolve at every turn. But they'd made it. They'd finally made it to the end.

"Are you nervous?" Katara whispered.

Zuko squeezed her hand as he climbed over the railing and onto Druk's back.

"No." He held out his hand to her, and she took it, climbing onto the space behind him. "It's time to end this."

Druk let out a great roar, and the people on the docks screamed, backing away from them as Druk climbed onto the dock. He beat his wings a few times, shaking off some of the water, then shot into the air. Flying was an amazing feeling. Having Katara hold him was an amazing feeling. He steered Druk toward the palace, the world racing by beneath him, and he felt at peace as the spire came into view. He felt at peace.

He was _ready_.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this one took so long to get out. Life has been throwing me some curve balls, and when you're not in the right mindset, it's very hard to write and be creative. But here we go, the penultimate chapter. Just one more to go, and then this story will be done. Thanks everyone for sticking with me through the long gaps in publishing chapters!


	13. The Last Agni Kai

The last time he was here, in this exact spot, he was thirteen.

Zuko closed his eyes as he stood, remembering the deafening roar of the crowd, unsure if they were cheering him on or booing him. So headstrong and needlessly confident that he didn't care. He remembered that day, down to minute and seemingly insignificant details; the way the stone felt rough against his bare feet, the heat of the sun beating down on his shoulders as the ceremonial shawl slipped away. He remembered pivoting, right foot out in front of him, his arms tight, ready to sink into his bending form.

And he remembered that face. He remembered the smirk and the words. He remembered the way the world became too bright, and how tight his chest felt as utter _terror_ took control of him.

He remembered that face.

 _This_ was the showdown that was always meant to be.

Zuko opened his eyes as he pivoted, his stance firm and his arms steady. A deep, calming breath as he looked at Ozai. His father. Ozai stood with his arms crossed, frowning.

"I'll give you one last chance to back out, boy," Ozai said, loud enough for everyone in the stadium to hear. "I promise your death will be quick."

The air was tense, and briefly, Zuko wondered if he could use it to generate lightning. He refused to take his eyes away from Ozai to judge the mood. All it would take would be one slip up, look away just once, and Ozai would try to take advantage of it. He couldn't risk it. Not now. He needed to trust himself.

"Where's your fire, boy? Don't tell me the water finally doused your flame. It was your mouth that got you here the first time."

Zuko breathed slowly. Ozai would taunt him. Try to goad him into an attack powered by anger and rage. Ozai threw his arms wide and took two steps forward.

"Look at me, boy—"

"I am Fire Lord Zuko, son of Fire Lord Ozai and Princess Ursa. Grandson of Fire Lord Azulon and Fire Lady Illah. Grandson of Avatar Roku and Lady Ta Min."

Ozai stopped, his face twisting, and Zuko reset his stance, digging in even further, because he could see the anger and humiliation rising on Ozai's face. When it came, the attack would be wild. Uncontrolled. Zuko had to be ready. He reached for his own anger, felt the fire flare inside of him.

"I am heir to this throne," Zuko continued, "and I will invoke the right of a Fire Nation royal heir to challenge their sovereign to Agni Kai. I am challenging you, _again_ , Fire Lord Ozai. And when you lose, I will take my rightful place on the throne."

"What right do you have—"

"The sages have heard my petition…"

"What _right_ —"

"…and considered my challenge _valid_."

" _What right_?"

Zuko barely had time to shield himself, the fire pressing close around him as he brought his hands together to split the blast. There was such force and _malice_ behind it, and Zuko could feel the fire scorching his arms, but he stayed put, knowing that Ozai couldn't keep up this sustained blast forever. He would run out of steam, and when he did, it wouldn't be long before the next attack came. Calling the fire to his fingertips, Zuko punched through Ozai's wall of fire. Three short blasts he sent off, breaking Ozai's concentration and forcing the older man to dodge. He needed to shorten the distance between them, but Ozai zeroed in on him, punching hard. Zuko ducked once, twice, three times, taking long strides as he turned, wincing as he accepted the fourth blast on his shoulder, spinning and putting his weight behind a blast that sped toward Ozai. Ozai moved to bat the blast away, clearly thinking that it was weak, that _Zuko_ was weak, but when it connected with his hand, he cried out in pain. Zuko didn't relent, following up one punch with other weaker ones, keeping Ozai on his toes, forcing him to be defensive, and when Ozai finally stopped, Zuko brought a fiery kick down on top of him. Ozai dispersed it with a roar.

"This world is mine!"

Ozai leapt forward, full of primal rage, his hands like claws, and for a moment, Zuko forgot to dodge, forgot to be anything other than a scared child until a low rumble shook the arena, and Zuko hastily brought his hands up to defend himself. Ozai slammed him to the ground and his vision went white as the air was knocked out of him and his head hit the stone.

"Do I have to burn the other side of your face for you to finally learn?"

Zuko twisted to the left, narrowly avoiding Ozai's fist as it crashed into the ground. The stone shattered, sending hot fragments into his face. Again and again Ozai punched, gouging deep holes in the floor of the arena, the heat becoming almost unbearable, hitting him in suffocating wave after suffocating wave, and Zuko couldn't catch his breath. Then Ozai's hands were around his throat, and he wanted to scream because he could feel the fire in his father's palms. The panic started to settle in, memories of intense pain, the remembered smell of charred and sizzling flesh. He clawed at Ozai's arms, eyes wide, trying to pry the burning fingers away from his throat, but Ozai's eyes were wild and furious.

"I should have smothered you in your sleep."

Zuko didn't bother to stop the tears. He remembered Ozai standing over him with a pillow, remembered smiling at his father, thinking Ozai had come to check on him. Ozai had recoiled, dropping the pillow and slowly backing out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. Not really understanding, Zuko had gone back to sleep, and later thought he'd dreamed the whole thing up.

"Why?"

He wasn't sure if Ozai would hear the words, if he was even making any sound, but it didn't really matter. He wouldn't get a truthful answer, even if Ozai knew himself. His vision was starting to swim, either from the burning or lack of oxygen, it didn't matter. Instead, he focused all of his energy into one hand, making a fist, and bringing it with all of his might into Ozai's kidney. Ozai howled with pain, rolling away and onto his side. Finally free, Zuko crawled to the other side of the arena and tried to breathe, hoping that Ozai would be preoccupied long enough to let him get his bearings. Everything _hurt_ , even the wind blowing across his neck. Shivering, Zuko tried to stand, but his body felt too weak.

"I will end this."

There was barely enough time to register the lightning as it tore through the air above him, and Zuko made himself as flat as possible. He had to scurry out of the way of the second bolt, and he could hear it crashing into the stands behind him, people screaming as they tried to get out of the way. The next bolt shattered the stone at his feet, and Zuko did the only thing he could think to do in that moment. Run.

"This is your would be Fire Lord," Ozai said to the crowd. "This is the coward who would ruin you! This is the fool…"

Zuko took aim carefully, knowing that he was still unsteady and that it still hurt to breathe, knowing that he was rushing the formations, and that it would make the bolt weaker. Ozai's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open in shock, surprise clearly overriding common sense and gluing Ozai to the spot long enough for the bolt to connect with his shoulder. Zuko took a deep breath and stood to his full height, looking out at the crowd. The arena was nearly silent. So many people had come to see this farce, had probably been waiting for this eventuality since the day Zuko crowned himself Fire Lord. If they'd been able to fool themselves into thinking it wouldn't come to this before, all doubt was removed when the proclamation was sent to every island, posted in the market places and sent directly to homes. He'd called Ozai unfit and accused him of crimes against the Fire Nation, finally challenging him to an Agni Kai for the right the rule.

Ozai groaned and writhed on the ground, cradling his shoulder, and Zuko took a half step toward him.

"There is no pleasure in this."

"That's because you're weak," Ozai spat at him.

Zuko swallowed past the pain in his throat and looked for Katara and Druk in the stands. They'd flown ahead to deliver the challenge to Ozai in person while their family secured the docks with their army. He found them toward the back, Druk on the edge of the arena, his head craned out over the crowd, the people no doubt feeling uneasy with that massive shadow looming over them. Across from him, Ozai was grunting and trying to stand, his shoulder a gory mess. He didn't look so imposing anymore, but Zuko could still feel the furious waves of heat, and silently, he begged his father to just stay down. Things didn't need to go any further.

"You can't own the world," Zuko said, taking a few steps forward. "There is a way to bring peace and prosperity without conquest."

"It _will_ be mine."

He'd never before given much thought to the way the air felt right before he shot lightning, but Zuko could feel the air shift, the hair on his arm standing up as Ozai gathered the charge, struggling with one arm. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but for those seconds, their eyes met, and Zuko's heart hurt like it never hurt before. He'd thought he made his peace with Ozai's fate, but as the lightning raced toward him, Zuko realized that the choice was never his. He caught the terribly weak bolt and brought it down through his fire chakra and did his best to hold it there as Ozai readied another bolt. As soon as the second bolt left Ozai's fingers, Zuko coaxed the first out of his fire chakra and toward his father. He didn't aim to the side, or try to hit Ozai's feet. He aimed right for his father's chest.

Ozai second bolt went wide, and he panicked as he threw fire at the blast heading toward him before diving off to the side. Ozai howled with pain as he landed on his injured shoulder, but even as he flopped on his back he tried to attack, kicking out feebly. Zuko batted the fire away, his heart sinking toward his stomach. There was still a part of him that wanted to believe that Ozai would finally give up.

"It's mine!"

With his good arm, Ozai swung out, sending a spray of sparks and fire toward Zuko, buying time as he rose to his feet again. Ozai continued his barrage, one handed, even though his was listing to one side, and Zuko dodged or dispersed Ozai's flame as if it was nothing. He couldn't stop staring at Ozai's shoulder. He did that. Blood was falling down his arm and dripping off Ozai's fingertips, leaving a macabre spray on the golden stone.

"Fight me, you coward," Ozai yelled, attempting a roundhouse kick. "You wanted your Agni Kai, don't refuse to fight me, now."

This, too, Zuko batted away. Feeling a weight pressing down on him, he advanced on Ozai, easily dodging his attacks, and when he was close enough, he put his entire weight behind a punch, hitting Ozai in the stomach.

"Please stay down," Zuko begged as Ozai crumbled.

When he was younger, he used to fantasize about how great it would feel to finally defeat Ozai in battle. Now…

Ozai spit blood at his feet.

"I will give you this choice," Zuko said to Ozai and the crowd. "It would be well within your rights to demand a criminal trial—"

"Kill me, you coward."

Zuko closed his eyes, his heart sinking. "If—"

"Kill me!"

Zuko took two steps back. He'd imagined a grand speech, something he'd say that would give a sense of finality to everything. The words stuck in his throat as Ozai smirked at him. He generated the lightning.

He aimed.

He let loose.


End file.
